Name:
Ritske Seimger

Race:
Mutated Human (Slaneesh)

Appearance:
Ritske has... Minimalist armour to say the least. Whilst she normally relies on the stealth capabilities of her captured XV-85 to dodge fire, she does have reasonable armour, although nothing that will stop anything stronger than perhaps a few autogun shots. The armour appears in large, bulky plates, and covers most of her centre of mass and what she regards as 'important;' namely her legs and groin, with basically no protection on her arms; she thinks that if they can hit your arm, you're dead anyway 'cause you can't fight back. (She'd be singing a different tune if she had power armour, but alas, she doesn't.)

Her Stealthsuit has been repainted after she realised that colour doesn't matter; surprisingly for her, it was done rather carefully, and it now sports a black colouring, with a very pale red trim. On the shoulder is a running list of the number of people who have been killed whilst she has wore the gear, and currently the count stretches from the top of the shoulder to... The other end of the shoulder.

Beneath the armour is a young woman, measuring roughly 5'8, and with black hair that reaches down in braids to about her hip. These braids are practically never done up, even though it would be much more practical in the long run. She's very pale, almost ridiculously so, and just above the small of her back is the symbol of Slaneesh, permanently branded into her skin. Her eyes are a bright pink colour, a side effect of her dedication to Slaneesh, but she simply claims that she comes from a planet near Cadia, and that tends to deflect most attention away from her.

Apart from her armour, very little else adorns her during combat. When not in the XV25, she wears a bandolier that goes from her left shoulder to her right, and then loops around her waist like a belt. She wears a simple leather jacket, both to prevent her armour from chafing and to cover up the mark, and boots with wrapping going from her calf to almost her waist. As well as the bandolier, she wears a medi-sling, and in it is numerous auto-injectors and syringes, more gifts from Slaneesh.

Personality: Indulgent, over-the-top, hedonistic, should have overdosed by now. All these words tend to descriptive Slaneesh followers, and Ritske is no exception. Willing to try anything once, then twice, then become addicted to it, she has escaped being persecuted due to a frankly excellent combat record, and that her bloody huge weapons tend to dissuade the average civie.

Bio:
When first stepping out onto the board of a spaceship, Ritske was a fresh-faced mercenary with an autogun and some junked flak armour that she had made for herself, and with nary a trace of chaos in her blood. The story of how that girl became the Slaneeshi-worshipping mercenary with enough armaments to overthrow a small nation is, surprisingly, fairly simple.

It wasn't long before she was exposed to combat, specifically against the Tau, her warband being hired by a pocket Imperium in order to deal with a Sept that had settled too close to 'their' territory. She found that the thrill of combat, especially when enhanced by her being higher than a kite when doing so, was almost addictive, and hence the seeds of Slaneesh were planted in her mind.

She and her warband fought the Tau for numerous years; it was when fighting them that she gained her XV25, and she looted most of her weapons from other members, be they dead, asleep, 'preoccupied' with Riske herself or simply not paying attention, and her arsenal exploded in a very short period of time, leaving the sector the head of her warband, blessed by Slaneesh with his/her mark and eager to continue fighting.

What followed was her warband being slowly ground down as they fought more and more, sometimes against man and with xenos and chaos, and sometimes with it. Her arsenal, especially the more exotic elements of it, were all gathered in this time, and she arrived in the Gregorian Imperium without a warband, but certainly wealthy and eager to fight some more.

Gregori, spying the opportunity to grab another mercenary to secure his growing empire, capitalised on her eagerness to fight, and she ended up fighting, on the condition that Gregori himself wouldn't take notice of any of the more... Heretical parts of her personality.

Forces:
A coupe of whispers here, a couple of hand gestures there, and it's surprising how many of her ilk can come out of the woodwork. (General cultist help, if she's given enough time to get some together)

Allegiance to Gregori: She's a mercenary. Enough said.

Personal equipment:

Name: Captain Tyros Maxim

Race: Adeptus Astartes

Appearance:

Personality: As a Space Marine from the Black Dragons Chapter, Tyros maintains the dignity of his duty and purpose. To serve the Imperium, even after it's death. Despite the turmoil of the millenia, he has become more cynical yet retained his will and compassion. The truth of the Founding Chapter, the Salamanders - though their are few left - he continues doing his duty and serves the remnants of the Imperium.

Bio: Captain Tyros Maxim had been the leader of the Black Dragons Chapter onboard the Battle-Barge Black Flame - once the Astronomican failed however, they were deposited into real-space; their Navigator dead yet their ship intact without the taint of Chaos.

At the start there was panic, fear and anxiety - the dreaded chill, that the Emperor had fallen and alongside it the Imperium. With no Imperium in-sight, and cut off from their other battle-brothers, the Black Dragons limped on through space. They had been lucky, already in hiding due to their mutation in their gene-seed - they had been deposited in a secret of space, full of aliens yet void of any massive Chaos incursions.

Though they had a good company of brothers, throughout the years - age, madness and xenos had whittled down their numbers, for several millenia they had drifted through space. Starting at around two-hundred brothers, they had flown through the stars aboard their Battle-Barge. Scavenging what they could from alien wreckages. Encountering weird fire-breathing flyers, whom had consumed one Imperial City to their very last people - it had been their hardest and first battle of them all. Losing at around a fifty, and yet they had managed to eradicate the deadly xeno before they could spread.

They then had visited a water-world, where several Imperial and Chaos ships had battled out several years ago. Scavenging what they could, while defending against the incursion of both Chaos, madness within their own ranks and dealing with the sea-creatures that tried to eat both of them.

In addition to that, over a barren wasteland - the Black Dragon Chapter engaged several Eldar corsairs. They infamous xenos, attacking at the last vestiges of might - in a galaxy where their race was close to extinction. They battled over an unknown moon at that, later called the Emperor' Stand - after their battle. As while the Eldar outnumbered them, the Black Dragon Chapter utilized skill and practicality. Sacrificing half of their brothers, in order to trap the Eldar pirates upon the moon - before unleashing a Cyclonic Torpedo upon the place, annihilating the Eldar whom had camped out upon the bodies of their dead brothers.

They took place in about a hundred battles, each as glories and tough, as before their times. Each and every time, they encountered either xenos. Freshly discovered and hostile lifeform, Chaos incursion. Or Imperials corrupted or twisted beyond recognition that was only cleansed by fire. Maintaining their equipment as best they could, until barely a squad anymore - they were deposited onto the outskirts of the Gregorian Imperium and their first sight of an Imperial Stronghold.

Forces:

• Battle-Barge Black Flame
• Three Space Marines (One Apochathery, One Tactical Marine, One Techmarine)

Allegiance to Gregori: Servant of the Imperium' people. Ally.

Personal equipment:

• Bolter
• Plasma Pistol
• Chainsword
• Astartes Power Armor

Name: Canoness Ishitta Thamus

Race: Human (Adepta Sororitas)



Personality: On the surface Ishitta is a hard woman. Who is willing to go to extremes for her beliefs. However, underneath that hardened exterior is a woman that cares greatly about the needs of the people under her command and put their needs first be it material or spiritual. She will go to great length to make sure those needs are meet. Ishitta is a person who has no love of Xenos and seems to actually look for ways to get away with purging them. Although will tolerate, even show some simple signs of respect to Xeno's that prove to be useful or help her. However, deep down she hates anything not human. No matter what a Xeno does that is helpful to her she will never really like them.

Ishitta has no love of Chaos and it worshipers and at the slightest hint of Chaos she will purge a worshiper without any hesitation and will begin a search. Hunting and purging every worshiper to the dark gods she can find until she is satisfied they have been all eliminated. Ishitta treats all everyone outside of her order with a small level of distrust and contempt. Always watching those around her closely.

Ishitta is a woman that leads by example whenever posable. If she tells her sisters to take a hill, chances are she will personally lead the charge if she feels she is the best to lead it. Otherwise, she will stay back issuing orders and dealing with politics of the Gregorian Impreium to ensure the needs of her sisters are represented and heard. Ishitta expecting to be listened to when she speaks, she has little patience for politicking. However, understanding it is required tolerating it like she does Xeno's that prove to be of use.

Although rarely seen Ishitta does have a soft side. However, it is reserved for when she is around her closest of friends and most trusted confidants. Ishitta treats those she likes with respect, although that list is very small



Forces: Order of the Mourning Maidens:
200 Sisters of battle.
A various mishmash of armoured vehicles and aircraft.
1 Heavily modified Battle Barge. (The Redeemer of Worlds.)



Allegiance to Gregori: Ishitta believes, for the most part, Gregori is the Embodiment of the god-emperors will. Although is still slightly sceptical on the matter due to his policies on Xeno's and the fact it just her nature. For the moment, least while she decides if he really is the embodiment. She is more than willing to be in service him. As she strongly believes that in time he will prove her scepticism to be misplaced.

Race: Kroot
Name: Zuggle, The Stubborn.

Appearance:

Personality: While most Kroot are savage, consuming warriors that favor adaptability, Zuggle is a softer fellow, seeing kindness, and caring as just as important. He still consumes, and adapts, but does so with a somewhat heavy heart, knowing one must die, for others to live. He embodies many characteristics lost in the 51st Millennium. Kindness, mercy, forgiveness. However, he does have the capacity to, and will, destroy his enemies with a fury. Those that would not join him, need to be stopped, before they destroy all good. But those that when in defeat, beg for their lives, who is he to steal their existence from them?

Zuggle's warm, caring exterior however, has lead him to develop cunning, and deviousness when it comes to finding those only using him, and to plan their failure. Treachery, is something even he has trouble forgiving. Of course, many a time he allows his betrayers to kill themselves, rather than his hand directly ending their lives. By killing themselves, he actually just lets them wander into a situation where their deceit is revealed, and others kill them.

But he is not without his faults. His caring can still be abused, and his reluctance to adapt has lead to his body being weaker than some Kroot have become. With enough social workings, mayhap his fellows could be turned against him. Or one could simply shoot him in the face, vigorously. That'd also sort him out.

Bio:Born on a Tau world, one of the many conquered from the ashes, Zuggle grew up being shown the faults of others, and that they must be destroyed. However, Zuggle had a craving for knowledge, and studied many a time, Tau history, discovering the old principles of the Greater Good. He became infatuated with the ideas, and soon began publicly showing these ideals, promoting kindness. Of course, this lead the Tau to attempt to destroy him after he had managed to convert his tribe to the old ideals.
Shortly after fleeing from the tau, he discovered the Gregori Imperium, and sough asylum in exchange for his tribes service as mercenaries, and during his work for Gregori, has accepted several Tech Priests into his tribe, offering them protection from those who would enslave them. He tries to be a beacon for the Kroot, and the tech priests, a beacon of hope...
Zuggle helded many titles, of warrior, diplomat, leader. However, these meant little for him. He simply sought to bring kindness to a place so barren of it.

Forces: 3 battle spheres worth of Kroot troops, 3 Kroot Battle Spheres, with some rescued Tech priests working along side them, arming his men with imperium weaponry, rather than the simple weapons the Kroot are normally seen with.

Allegiance to Gregori: While he may not believe Gregori to be divine, but he does respect him, and sees him as mayhap the best way forwards for his people, and for his goal of uniting the galaxy under the ideals of the Greater Good. He acts as a mercenary leader, a Kroot shaper, to help lead his forces in evolution, and in combat.

Personal equipment:
1 set of Lighting Claws, looted from a Space Wolves Pirate.
1 Chain sword, looted from a battle field.
1 Bolter Pistol, modified to be a rifle, and silenced.

Name: Alexius Commenus

Race: Human

Appearance:

Personality: On the surface, Alexius is amicable, charismatic, and down to earth when talking to most people in public which makes him impressionable and likeable to most who meet him in passing or witness him. He exudes a confident aura that begets his perceived ability to keep control over a situation even if utter pandemonium is set to break loose, and his capacity for empathy is remarked as boundless.

In truth, while Alexius is all of those things, his bright exterior hides a schemer and manipulator of Byzantine depths. Very self-interested despite his mostly appearing to be selfless work, he leads a very two-faced persona to those who know him well. He takes relish in playing the long game when it comes to seeing his plans and maneuvers come to fruition rather than quick and brutal plots. An opportunist with a lot of patience, Alexius hides his calculating and ambitious interior beneath a mask of a persona that claims to hold the interests of others first.

Despite all this, he is mostly honest to his friends and allies who have done by him, in these particularly unsettled times, he merely views himself as in being realistic rather than malicious.

Bio: Alexius Commenus was born the son of Inquisitor Stefanos Commenus, member of the Ordo Chronos aboard the Errant Cohort fleet, where he has spent most of his life like others born to members of the Ordo, grooming to take over their elder's position and carry on their new objective to help mankind survive in this new age of strife.

Once many millennia ago, the Ordo Chronos was an Ordo Minoris of the Imperial Inquisition devoted to investigating and understanding the effects of time manipulation on the Warp, endeavours which led to the entire Ordo's mysterious disappearance. Now since their reappearance, strangely coinciding with the rapid decline of the galaxy's conditions, they returned to a shattered Imperium and chaotic galaxy. Keeping themselves hidden especially from their former over-arching organization, its original members used their (at the time) still formidable standing as Inquisitors to re-acquaint themselves with their time period, and began deliberating over what course of action they should take in light of recent events. Many disagreed over specifics, but all agreed that they could not stand idly by while the Imperium crumbled and humanity was slowly consumed by this "New Devourer" and the platitude of other foes that had arose, resurgent. To this end, they worked quickly to utilize their still formidable status to overtake command of the nearest Imperial Battlefleet, Thanatos, to use for their own ends.

Sending out calls on all frequencies to Imperial vessels and worlds, they called out their intent: to leave in search of a place to gather humanity and re-organize the crumbling Imperium once again. Many did not heed their calls at first, but more and more would over the centuries as the fleet, berift of long-distance Warp travel, slowly cruised from system to system. The Ordo's members passed on their positions, titles, knowledge, and skills to either direct or adopted descendants as they died, keeping the inner command circle within the fleet alive so as to keep the fleet from disintegrating and on course with their self-appointed mission.

Some systems they found were peaceful and would remain there for a time, most were in various states of chaos and war with some foe or another. Though the fleet on occasion took part in some battles, it mostly kept to itself, continuing on its course, keeping up its calls, and growingly larger with each system it went through.

By Alexius' time, many changes had occurred within the Ordo and within the fleet. For one thing, Radicalism had become the dominant ideology for the first time within the Ordo's members, which had staunchly been mostly Puritan for ages, but had slowly begun to become more and more radical as time wore on and circumstances became more dire. Such circumstances were the ever-present problem of maintaining and supplying the now enormous fleet as it traversed massive expanses of space, the light of the Astronomicon long-since dead and nobody crazy enough to jump into the Warp. Many among them knew the advantages Xenos and their technology could lend to their struggle, or understood the pragmatism behind the need to not having any scruples about raiding and plundering worlds of any kind resources for the survival of the fleet. The Puritan bloc had always staunchly opposed such ideas, keeping to the old Imperial values of faith, perseverance, and trust in humanity alone to overcome any obstacle. Cynicism grew like a tree within such an atmosphere over time though, and Alexius now saw his opportunity to not only gain power for himself within the Ordo, but to take the fleet into a whole new direction.

The old master of the Ordo had died, and it was now left to the surviving members to choose a successor from amongst themselves. Although all members of the Ordo had equal say, the Master was often the one in the position to make the final call on matters and was the public singular voice of the Fleet's administration, so choosing the right one was key. Alexius, though he was young by Ordo member standards, and had only recently obtained the position of Inquisitor from his father's passing, had developed a very powerful oratory rhetoric and capacity for debate and speechcraft. He practically danced circles around many of the Puritans with how he argued their beliefs were obsolete and not only hurting the Fleet and its denizens, but the very Ordo itself through their stagnation. His persuasiveness was such that he managed to pull off a victory, and became the youngest Master of the Ordo Chronos in its history.

With the power of the fleet effectively his and most of the Ordo behind him, Alexius wasted no time, he began effecting new fleet-wide policies towards the treatment of Xenos and Xenos tech, as well as the study of some of the previously "forbidden" subjects under past administrations. The Puritans raised an uproar, but Ordo and even popular support among the need for change within the fleet was so great that they were forced to quell their rage, though talk of civil war was abound within the ships. To this end, Alexius "arranged" the removal of many of his more chief detractors, not immediately, and never so boldly as to pronounce open warfare, but slowly, over years and years when most people wouldn't care to notice for connections, there was an exploded reactor here, an apparent suicide via overdose there, a death on diplomatic mission there, one by one, Alexius slowly removed his opponents all while appearing completely grief-stricken by their sudden deaths. And with each one, he got bolder and bolder with his plans. By that time, those that still remained who doubted his rule were cowed into silence and bitter submission.

Eventually, Xenos were allowed to enter the fleet just as much as any humans so long as their abided by the laws of the Ordo, kept the peace, and contributed to the betterment of the fleet as a whole in whatever way they could. The fleet also became more active in systems they arrived in, picking and choosing targets to aid, targets to plunder, and targets to avoid and coordinated on a massive scale to get the most out of systems they could before cutting their losses and moving on. With the help of the combined genius of various human and alien minds, and through these new pragmatic policies the fleet gained a fresh wind of vitalizing energy, though their quest for a new home was still not closer to fruition.

Then came the Cohort's arrival in Gregori Imperium space. Unlike almost all the previous systems they had entered over the decades, which were either lifeless or in some state of hostility, this one was one which seemed to have a semblance of order to it, and that changed the whole picture for Alexius, the Ordo, and the Errant Cohort.

Forces: The Errant Cohort, a rag-tag fleet of ships gathered from dozens of different systems which the Cohort has passed through over the centuries it has drifted through space. Though at its base is a set of Imperial Naval Vessels that once went under the name Battlefleet Thanatos, its numbers also include numerous civilian and trader vessels, and several notable Xenos ships, 200 make up the fleet, half of which are outfitted for battle. The Battleship Wandering Chronos is Alexius' mobile home and is the largest vessel in the fleet. Hard estimates on the numbers of people, both Human and Xenos, that populate the fleet are dicy, but it is estimated that there are several billion souls that call the fleet home. Millions stand ready as troops and battle-ready vessels from so many far flung nooks of the galaxy, though their lack of uniformity does in many cases lead to a lack of discipline or order which the Ordo Chronos seeks to keep a handle on.

The Ordo Chronos, effectively having become Alexius' Lieutenants since he became Master of the small Ordo, they work to instill his will upon the Fleet and to carry out his wishes. Twenty make up the Ordo's current official membership as Inquisitors or Lord Inquisitors not counting Master Alexius, with almost all of them having Interrogator apprentices (but they have no say in the direction of the Ordo).

Allegiance to Gregori: Currently, the two are partners and their forces allied under Gregori's banner, though their partnership remains mostly untested. The two have equal respect and wariness of each other and their capabilities, having overcome obstacles of equal calibre to become leaders in their own rights. Neither truly trust each other yet, but common interests and goals which they can both compliment help make the relations more stable.

Personal equipment:
-A Lamark Thousander Model Revolver
-Three Digital Weapons Rings (Needle, Flamer, and Las)
-Emperor's Tarot Deck
-Force Sword
-Carapace armour

Name: Gabriel Corbec

Race: Human

Appearance: The first thing that is usually noted upon seeing Gabriel is the carapace armor that he possesses. What was once a ornate suit of carapace armor fit for a lord-militant is now battle-scarred and worn. It is covered in scorch marks, dents, and other forms of battlefield damage. Despite all this the carapace armor seems to be well taken care, as well as it can at least.

Inside of the carapace armor is a man in his 30s. He stands at an average height for humans at about 5’10. He keeps his brown hair short so as to not get in his way during a fight. His body is adorned in battle scars earned through his years of service.

Personality: Gabriel is a rather pragmatic man. He has seen the virtue of being able to work with xenos, as long as they aren’t attacking humans that is. This is because above all else Gabriel loves his men and wants to keep them as safe as he can. This does not mean he is not willing to spend his men’s lives, but he refuses to waste them. Though Gabriel refuses to work with any agent of Chaos. In fact he will do all in his power to destroy the agents of Chaos where he sees them.

Bio: Gabriel was born on Cadia before it fell, which makes him one of the last few loyal Cadians in the galaxy. He is also one of a rare breed for Lord-Militant, in that he worked his way up through the ranks until finally becoming one. Now he did start out as a lieutenant, but through his years of service he showed the bravery and zeal required to slowly be promoted through the ranks of the Imperial Guard. Not long before the Emperor fell, Gabriel was promoted to Lord-Militant and assigned a large battle group to go assist a nearby sector.

Unfortunately before he could make it there the Emperor died and the ensuing warp storms scattered his fleet. When his fleet finally managed to tear itself from the warp, he found that he had gone from commanding millions of guardsmen with hundreds of ships to transport them, to only a million guardsmen and a few dozen ships. He had also been deposited a couple centuries later then he had intended. With no idea what had happened and with no means of contacting anyone Gabriel decided to keep moving. In what could be more described as a running battle instead of movement, Gabriel has spent the last 10 years assisting whatever remnants of the Imperium he can find. In that time he has had to face the shocking realizations that the Imperium is gone, the Emperor dead, and that Cadia has fallen.

Finally he has entered into the Gregori Imperium with barely 500,000 men left and a handful of ships. Instead of his usual plan of just seeing if the local humans need assistance, Gabriel has decided to stay and help this nascent Petty Imperium. For he has no plans of seeing all of his men die for nothing.

Forces:
50 regiments of Guardsmen, 5 of which are Cadian
3 Cruisers
10 Escorts
A single squad of Kasrkins which serve as his bodyguards

Allegiance to Gregory: An ally. He sees the Gregori Imperium as a good place to finally settle down and give his men some rest.

Personal Equipment:
-Battle-scarred Carapace armor
-Power Sword
-Bolt pistol

Name: Captain Leal Lettore

Race: Human.

Appearance: Captain Lettore of the first company of the Relictors looks about as pictured. Unhelmed, he has light colored skin, blue eyes, and long, silver hair. He looks about 40 years old.





Personality: Leal is very direct and practical. He long ago learned the technique of stopping his emotions and focusing only on battle, which is paramount to his defense inside the warp, and that shows in his logical, cold personality. He is not without his zeal however, which is of course for the prosperity of humanity and to uphold the will of the late emperor for all eternity. Protecting human kind from chaos is practically an obsession to him, as it is to all his brethren. Like them, he will give anything for the cause and is no stranger to extreme, even questionable measures. He has no intention of going after xenos as long as they pose no threat to humans. He may not like them, but sacrifices must be made in these dark times. The forces of chaos are clearly the greater threat. Leal is somewhat emotionally or mentally attached to his weapon and devoutly meditates on it.

Bio: For a general history of the Relictors: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Relictors

Beaten back by the Grey Knights at the end of the 13th Black Crusade, the few remaining Relictors with Leal retreated into hiding aboard their badly damaged Ramilies-class Starfort within the Eye of Terror. Only 23 were alive in his company at the time, and recovery and regrowth was long. Yet the Relictors were able to preserve their secrets, the techniques they had learned that allowed them to bind grater daemon souls into their weapons. Not a single one of their marines has yet fallen to the corruption inherent in such risky endeavor, which yields the most powerful warriors against chaos that the Imperium has ever known.

They traveled space, engaging the enemy wherever it threatened humanity, even joining battles that were already ongoing against the demons to assure a space marine victory. Yet, having been declared renegades and excommunicated, they were always on the run from the Inquisitors.

Now, in the 51st millennium, the empire is fragmented. Man has turned against man, and the edicts of his venerable decree have been forgotten. The High Council is no more. The Inquisition, the Astra Miliratum, no one can reach far enough to enforce anything, and thus they in essence cease to exist. Fortunately, the Relictors had been operating on their own for a long time, and have maintained their order and practices. Although travel has been gravely slow, they have recently managed to secure a small section of space and protect it. Uninhibited by other Astartes, they have reclaimed their homeworld for recruiting and now stand at about 100. They mourn most effectively by continuing to carry out the late Emperor's eternal will.

It was during one such battle when the Relictors had found and joined an isolated chapter of the Sister Sororitas to aid them that Leal Lettore acquired his unique weapon and proved himself worthy of the unexpectedly opened position of captain. A shift in the activity of the warp nearby had caused the immaterium to bulge too close to a local world. Demons invaded and psychic chaos erupted. Half of the Sisters had become corrupted and had turned on the other half. A living saint manifested and immediately became the target of a losing battle. The saint was slain. Upon her final death, her fused soul lingered. This was probably due to the disturbance in the warp that had persisted since the death of the emperor and creation of the Star Father. Leal was stricken with a sudden and possibly very heretical idea; he bound the angelic soul into his relicblade. Doing this created a weapon of such unfathomable power that the forces of chaos were driven from the world before him. Peace was re-established.

Old tensions between the Sisters Sororitas and the Relictors still smoldered however, and the Relictors soon moved on after restocking their supplies. It is some time after these events that Captain Lettore and his starfort entered Georgian space. He seeks to increase his ship's mobility, garner a few ships, and get any information he can about the state of humanity in this nightmarish future.

Forces: 1 still very damaged starfort, Imperius Immemoriam. A dozen gunships/dropships. 113 Relictor space marines, including 1 captain. Daemonweapons. Support crew that have joined them along the way.

Allegiance to Gregori: Gregori may or may not be all that he claims. Negotiations with him are with respect and honor. Desperate times do call for desperate measures, but we are not throwing the Lexicanum out the window. He is a means to an end, and that end is rebuilding the empire, but all intentions must be pure. Trade with mercenaries and Xenos is accepted as necessary to maintain a fighting force and to protect human kind. Gregori is of course human, an ally to this end, and a source of information. One day, warp travel will be made possible again, and the Imperium of Man will be restored.

The Relictors have given Gregory a standing offer to respond to any and all chaos threats within Gregorian space.

Few have seen his face, because he rarely interacted with other truly sentient species in the galaxy, except in his distant past, and very recently (In terms of his age, anyway.) Those who employ him, or work closely with him, know that he has dark, close-cropped hair, and a distinguishing scar on the bridge of his nose, as well as the tip of his left ear missing. Again, it is rare that he unveils himself, so very few know what he truly looks like, and even that he is an Eldar, a trait that is certainly worth hiding in the remnants of the xenophobic Empire of Man.

Syvarrus is calculating and quiet, more a result of centuries of isolation and lone survival than distaste for his present company, although that is certainly a part of it. You can take the Eldar out of the craftworld, but you can't take the Craftworld out of the Eldar, etc. He harbors many of the old prejudices against the "Monkeigh," despite walking among them (rarely openly, of course.) This has lead many to consider him to be cold, which is not entirely true. As an Eldar outside of his craftworld, Syvarrus has had to learn to manage his intense emotional and psychic sensitivity without the help of other Eldar, or even other living beings. Because of this, there are centuries of intense emotions subdued and buried, and he has been known for the occasional bout of intense emotion, often resulting in hysterical or violent outbursts, though this only occurs in times of extreme stress.

"I am of Alaitoc. Was of Alaitoc. Alaitoc is no more. I was a warrior, following the teachings of Kaela Mensha Khaine. Specifically, I was a member of the Swooping Hawks. I was good at it, if a little too hot-headed. I think I may have had it in me to become an exarch. It wasn't to be. I ended up... disagreeing with the leader of my battle group. It's funny, such a life-changing decision, and I can't even recall what began our little spat. I do recall, however, that what ended it was my blade to the Exarch's midsection.

What? Hahah, no, no. I was nothing at the time, no match for an Exarch. He survived, and taught me a thing or two about the ways of the warpath. After taking the beating of my life (and that's truly saying something in my case,) I was exiled. I think I was only spared because I had friends on the seer council. Then again, perhaps it was Cegorach's unknowable will. After all, if I hadn't lost my temper, and been summarily exiled, I would be as dead as the rest of my Alaitoc kin. As it happens, I am the only remaining Eldar from that craftworld. At least to my knowledge, anyway. After my exile, but before my race fell further into ruin, I wandered for a time with a group of Exodites on their planet. I learned much of self-reliance, and the freedom that comes with it from them. When I left that planet it was as a stowaway aboard an Ork vessel, which had come to the planet as part of a Waaagh! raiding party. This was before the Devourer, you see. Orks were still a relatively sentient species, and not the monstrosities you tell your children about to keep them in line. The exodites didn't stand a chance, but they faught hard, and, presumably, died well. I ran, and hid, stowing away aboard the Ork flagship.

I killed the Warboss in his sleep. It wasn't long before the Waaagh! began to tear itself apart. Eventually, the flagship, along with what was likely much of the fleet, crashed on a deserted, inhospitable planet. I escaped into the wilds of the world. With the orks warring amongst themselves, they never even noticed me. With only my sword, my wings, and my rifle, I set out into the wilds of that harsh planet. The orks too remained, but neither the local fauna, nor I, intended to allow the green tide to arise on the planet. Some orks would spawn, and I would kill many more. The local wildlife made frequent meals of them as well, but I'd wager my wings that I took out more of them. This became my path, my focus. For what must have been hundreds of years I hunted them, alone. I did take pleasure in this at first. Vengeance for the exodites, I thought. Perhaps I took too much pleasure. I shot for the knees, or the stomach. The most painful places, and I am a very good shot. I think I came close to being lost forever on that planet. I think perhaps I cam close to losing my soul to Her. Something... changed in me though.

The killing became less about enjoyment, and more about something else. I killed to preserve the life of the planet that had become my new home. I killed to preserve and protect. In this, I think I found my protection from She who Thirsts. My life became dedicated to a cause. Eventually, every ork on that planet was killed. I don't take the credit for all of them, but guerrilla tactics and near-agelessness make for a terrible foe. Compounded by the fact that these orks were leaderless and warring amongst themselves as well. Still, I do take a certain pride in my accomplishments. I wonder if that planet has been taken by some scourge now...

Regardless, I remained on that planet. Stranded, for a very long time, until eventually a troupe of Harlequins found me. I don't know how or why. Who can say with that lot? They rescued me, and regaled me with the tales of the centuries I had been away from Alaitoc. They told me of the Devourer, the fall of your God-Emperor, the fall of my people into further weakness. The intrusions of the Dark Gods into the webway. Much had changed, but I found my talents could still be of use, even in this failing galaxy. They loaned me a ship, and I ended up here, working for our mutual employer. If there is to be stability in the Galaxy, then your kind needs to be united again. Perhaps, if I walk the path just so, my actions can seal a new alliance between my kind and yours. Unlikely, I know, but I find it is a comforting thought."

Syvarrus does not consider himself a leader, and works best without clumsy young warriors getting in his way or blowing his cover. Due to this, and the nature of his work, he almost exclusively works alone.

Syvarrus is Gregori's assassin, working exclusively for him, in an extremely discreet manner. He follows the reasoning of the ancient Farseer Eldrad Ulthran, who believed that Humanity should be the shield against the forces of chaos in the galaxy, while the Eldar should strike from behind them, in the safety of their shadow. Syvarrus still thinks that this is possible, which is why he did not join Biel-Tan, as he sees Gregori as a way to re-fortify humanity as the shield and shadow for the Eldar to rally and strike behind.

Kurnous' Hunting Spear, usually referred to simply as The Spear, is Syvarrus' Long Rifle, psychically grown specifically for his hands, thousands of years ago. To this day, one would be hard-pressed to find a more accurate and deadly sniper rifle. Syvarrus knows the weapon as he knows his own body, indeed the rifle has been with him for so long that he would feel more than naked without it. If he is ever without his spear, something is well and truly wrong.

From his earlier days, before his exile from his craftworld. Kept folded under his other clothes and gear, concealed. Almost exclusively used as a last resort if for some reason a job goes south, or he needs to make a quick escape. Also used occasionally to gain a better vantage point for trickier assassinations or reconnaissance.

Syvarrus' power sword, named after the final sword forged by the deadgod Vaul. Though it's nothing special in terms of power weapons, the blade has seen him through many years, and countless close-calls, and he is quite skilled with it, should the need for melee combat arise. He wields this alongside a basic shuriken pistol in mid-to-close-quarters combat.

Once the emitter is activated, it cloaks the person when they're standing still, or moving slowly. When moving swiftly, however, the emitter makes it seem as if the person explodes into a cloud of thousands of tiny shards that dance and shimmer, obscuring the position of the Eldar within. Holo-field not only confuse the eye, making it impossible to pinpoint the location of the wearer, but they also negate any high-tech sensors, effectively making the Eldar within impossible to spot. It should be noted, however, that unlike the graceless defensive technology of the lesser races, a holo-field emitter offers nothing in the way of actual physical defense, it only offer obfuscation.

Name: Enyo Consulve

Race: Human

Appearance:




Personality:
As an ex Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor he is a deceitful and cynical man. Before he was full of righteous zeal for the Emperor, but now replaced with the will to survive in a universe that has proven there is no god. This has made him to be almost insane in his mannerism and his humor to all things which had once found disturbing and menacing. A strict honorable man now a shell of his former self. Even his men think him a little too much, but understandable due to his former occupation.

He usually doesn't reveal his true self to his enemies until their very close imminent demise, somewhat of a scare tactic. At the same time he finds it comical to act like his former self, later revealing his true nature later on in any relationship he has with others. While not fearing death, he doesn't like to do too much of the action himself. Allowing his men to do the heavy lifting for him, and leaving their target just enough breath to answer his questions or be taken to a interrogation chamber. He tries his best to fight with his mind, setting up situations that he can't lose.

Bio:
Enyo was saved from his later mentor, Senior Inquisitor Amaran Likin. He was just a baby of a small Agri-world that had delved into heresy. The small child was the boy of the Planetary Governor, the leader to the Heretical Rising on the planet. As the Adepta Sororitas, cleaned the palace of servants that were deemed tainted, Amaran decided to keep the boy and train him as a acolyte. His service being penitence for the sins of his planet. Amaran would never admit it, but he truly saved the child out of kindness.

Many years went by and by the time he was 73 he took his senior's place. Taking his skills thought by him, his armament, and his ship and crew. He continued all the way to the end, becoming a honorable man, who's presence would strike awe and fear to any world he was to investigate, almost a complete copy of Amaran. It wasn't till the very end, the last breath of the emperor that he became the man he is now. Broken...

If first started with his ship's psyker's head imploding, sending screams and brain matter around the ship. While a million horrible incidents could of happened in mid warp, they were saved. The only consequence was being thrown off, left alone in the middle of system within Segmentum obscurus. They thought the worst was over, until they found out they have were not in the same time they once were before. They were completely in the dark, pushing through space for several weeks until finding a whole different universe. Completely changed from the last they saw.

Forces:
-Archon Mortail (Dictator class cruiser.)
-1 Squadron of Avenger Strike Fighter(12)
-1 Squadron of Lightning fighter crafts(12)
-2 Squadrons of Fury Interceptors(20)
-1 Squadron of Starhawk Bombers(10)
-1 Company of Storm Troopers (100)

Allegiance to Gregori:
Enyo and his crew found a planet that was in the control of Gregori after moving aimlessly through space. After being told of all the news of what has occurred since the beginning of 50k, unknown since they originally have lost their time in the warp. He joined up with them seeing their is no other choice for him or his men, but not after breaking down by the loss of the Emperor. It left him broken and weak. This is how he came to accepting Gregori as the newest Emperor.

Personal equipment:
-Custom Carapace Armor: This armor includes vambrace and grieve guards, a left shoulder protector, and a chest piece that is a slick shell, quite different then the bulky standard Carapace armor.
-Angel's Regret: A Power Sword with a purple glow around its blade. It is shaped oddly into a straight thin rectangular form, not resembling the average Saber or arming sword form used by imperials. It is usually kept on his left hip.
-Primus Custom: A pair of antique looking laspistols. Crafted to look similar to dueling pistols, but have the same attributes as the laspistol. They are usually kept on his lower back.
-Boot Knife

Name: 2/2, snake-eyes, or just simply 'stalker'

Race:Human, major mutant.

Appearance: Somewhat short and lanky, completely bald due to mutations with a scaly hide rather than the normal skin, the markings of which appear to be similar to that of an Atheris hispada breed of serpent though it's normally covered up with bandages and other assorted forms of clothing.

Personality: Stalker is a rather quiet fellow, prefering instead to let others speak and provide input only when prompted unless he feels strongly about something. Outside of that, he's not very loyal to the imperium so much so as the concept of survival and will do many things most humans could not in order to further that goal.

Bio: While the actual childhood of stalker is unknown save that it was most likely either a tau experiement in reviving a long-extinct species, or a very mutated offshoot of the human race. However, the fact that his origins amongst the tau as a hunter and in turn sniper should be noted considering that his prefered weaponry is in fact the standard issue gun for tau fire warriors whether it was looted from a corpse or simply given to him is unclear. The Imperium found Stalker around the time he was in his mid teens via him quite literally hunting a squad for food, and while this would normally be grounds for execution, the fact that he'd done so through cover from quite the distance away was note-worthy enough to earn him a spot as a sniper in a penal squad where he managed to survive due to his capabilities of making what most would consider impossible shots repeatedly, a trait that was attributed to his mutations allowing him quite a keen sense of sight as well as the ability to see thermal radiation, making cover largely useless against him if his weapon could punch through it.

Around his mid-twenties the imperium he belonged to at the time had fractured, leaving him as a sort of leader of a small band of soldiers due to being 'the bloke no one wanted to piss off'. While reluctant at first, he had a knack for keeping them alive at the very least, and around his late twenties, he'd managed to retake his home planet under his control just in time for gregori to find it, battered and bruised from infighting and the deaths of so many important leaders. While most people might be averse to just simply handing over power like that, Stalker found it more a burden than anything else, and happily did so when asked, allowing him to return to a much less stressful position.

Forces:
Roughly ten squads of standard issue guard forces, two tank squads manning a manticore and Leman russ model flame-tank as well as some back up sentinels just in case they're needed.

Allegiance to Gregori:(Your characters personal thoughts on Gregori as well as how they currently serve him. This should not be filled out until after you PM me the sheet)

Personal equipment: Tau standard issue plasma rifle with specialized optics for long-ranged shots, standard issue carapace armor and snow gear, standard issue guard gear (pack, canteen, grenades, ammo packs for his rifle, fire ignition set, and rations)

Race:

Human (Adeptus Astartes)

Appearance:

Beneath his terminator armour, Askeladd has a stern young face that betrays his actual age. He watches the world through a pair of icy blue eyes that are flanked by thick blonde eyebrows. His aquiline nose hangs over a pair of lips that rarely leave a steady frown. Like most elder wolves, his canine teeth are elongated to fangs that look like daggers when he shows his teeth. His hair is kept tightly pulled back and braided, the thick braid running down the entirety of his back.

His terminator armour is untold years older than himself and as with all things time has taken its toll. Few of its parts are first hand and while a great effort has been made to maintain its colours, there is no way to truly hide that it has been rebuilt many times over its lifetime with any fresh parts that could be found. It is adorned with purity seals scattered about the torso and shoulders, with the pelt of a Fenrisian wolf resting on his shoulders as a mantle. Finally, it takes longer than ten thousand years for a Wolf to lose faith in the Emperor and as such, planted center on his chest is the Imperialis Badge meant to act as a symbol that he and his wolves are still loyal to the Emperor.

Personality:

"For the fallen Allfather, the Great Wolf, and humanity, die well brothers," has become the motto of Askeladden's company and is a motto Askeladden himself wears proudly. He holds the history of the chapter close to his heart, even naming his company The Claws of Fenris in honour of the fallen, going against tradition of naming it after its Wolf Lord. Askeladden loves humanity nearly as much as he loves his brothers. This produces some trials and tribulations for him though when supplies grow short and his only solution is to take from hands that refuse to give. The actions he has to take in these desperate times often lead to sleepless nights, but he does he best to always maintain his composure as an iron willed living embodiment of battle.

With his position, he has learned to be humble, he has learned to be fierce without violence, he has learned to demand and to take without drawing a bolter, he has learned the value of words for more than just stories. Askeladden has grown used to diplomacy, though should it ever fail him he is always ready to employ a frost ax to the problem with extreme prejudice.

Bio:

Aske was born in a small forgotten hamlet on Fenris, becoming the first child in over a decade to be born in his hometown of seventy. The son of farmhands, Aske was put to work as soon as his hands could form callouses and his feet could blister. Surviving winters meant months of preparations, little sleep, and fasting when crops yielded little and the hunts returned nothing. As soon as he could hold a bow he was sent to the woods when the crops had no need for tending, first with the company of one of his uncles, and after his first few hunts he traveled alone. At a young age, he learned to lure the fenrisian wolves to him, so that he could drive a spear into them as they came for a quick kill. In the winters he would hunt most often, suffering the windburn and risking his extremities turning black so that he could lure the desperate beasts out. Their meat tasted rotten as if they all lingered on death's door, but the meat they provided brought cheers from his home and gave him something other than grains and boiled vegetables to eat.

He soon grew to tower above the ageing population of the hamlet and with his strength and size their burdens more often than not became his. He was to tend to the fields, hunt for meat, keep watch over their stores, and wring the necks of bandits fool enough to think his people prey. Despite his efforts, he buried more of his kin each winter than the last. This went on until a member of the Space Wolves found the dying hamlet on a hunt and shared with those that could listen the glories of the Space Wolves. Askeladd heard this and felt the tugs to answer the call to something greater than the life of a farmer, but if it were not for the encouragement from his remaining family he would have never left. While he left, he was happy to go and live a life of his choosing, though he was sure he would never see the faces he left behind again.

First the introduction of the gene-seed nearly killed him many times over, then the decade of training did its best to try and kill him again. Of the 13 neophytes, he was one of the two to survive the process. The neophyte that survived alongside him and became his fellow Blood Claw became his lifelong friend, Eiryk Hardrada, with whom he has stared into the eyes of chaos many times and come out unscathed. They were placed under the tutulage of then Grey Hunter Aesir Canis, who would impart on the two everything he had known. Several decades into his service he had seen countless conflicts across dozens of worlds alongside his battle brothers. His purpose was cast in iron; To live for the betterment of mankind and slaughter all that dare threaten humanity.

He served his chapter well and found himself slowly gaining recognition for his bravery in battle against the forces of chaos. His company slowly moved farther and farther away from his former home and by the time word reached him of the fall of Ethelred's wolves, the desecration of Fenris his brothers were too far away to be of any help. They were too occupied with clearing forces of chaos to retreat without expecting even greater losses than they were already suffering. When his company first left Fenris they were 125 Wolves strong and along the way had drawn in two-hundred thousand of Imperial Guardsmen and Imperial Navy ships. Now there were fewer than thirty Wolves left and sixty thousand guardsmen. The fleet that had grown to consist of a Battlebarge, three gladius-class frigates, and a sword-class frigate were down to a badly damaged Battlebarge and a single half-manned gladius. Their Wolf Lord was dead, his Wolf Guard all but gone, and there it was put to a vote who would take the mantle of Wolf Lord. Aesir abstained, leaving only Askeladden for the position.

Now centuries old, Wolf Lord Askeladden commands a small retinue of Wolves and commands a Battlebarge named the Will of Bjorn. His company struggles to survive, only six of the original 125 still clinging to life. Sacrifices have been made and only a fraction of his original forces continue to fight for the betterment of man, but still they fight on with ferocity that would make the Great Wolf himself proud. Their battlebarge struggles along, the only remaining ship in their fleet, severely undermanned, wearing scars centuries old. In his retinue are his closest brothers; his former mentor, his former fellow Blood Claw, an Iron Priest, and two young Blood Claws eager to prove themselves to their commander. Together they continue to abide by the final order given to all wolves. To serve humanity and to die well.

Forces:

Sigurd the Snake - Iron Priest
Aesir Canis - Rune Wolf Priest
Eiryk Hardrada - Grey Hunter
Harald Gulhringr - Blood Claw
Mathias Lokabrenna - Blood Claw
Modified Thunderhawk - Altered to act as an incredibly cramped living space for six men during their brief planetary visits.
The Hand of Bjorn - Battlebarge
23,000 guardsmen and navy men
200 chapter serfs
Six additional Thunderhawks

Allegiance to Gregori:

Remains to be seen.

Personal equipment:

1x Indomitus Pattern Terminator Armour
2x Wolf Claw variant Lightning Claws
1x Storm Shield
1x Frost Ax
6x Krak Grenades
1x Storm Bolter
1x Fenrisian Wolf Pelt

Name: Orion Storm - The Terrible Storm

Race: Human (Astarte)

Appearance:

Personality:
He was one of the few 'Pure' sons of Perturabo, making him naturally superior then the filth he carries with himself. Still he keeps absolute loyalty to his Astarte as they keep to him. He is naturally arrogant, thinking he is far superior then any that stand before him. He also keeps his mannerisms the same as any Traitor Legion Marine. In combat he becomes quite serious and very calculated, due to him originally being a Iron Warrior and his constant attempts to make any battle in favor of him. Still he seems to hold a soft spot for his troops, while weak he finds them valuable.

Bio:
Orion was originally apart of the Iron Warriors Legion in the late 30th Millennium. After the Great Betrayal, he followed his brethren across the stars, but not to the Eye of Terror. Like many of his Legion he did not believe the power of the Chaos gods. Retreating to their own sub section of space, leaving a wake of destruction in his path.

As the millennium passed, this Iron Warrior moved up the ranks. Eventually becoming Warsmith with his cohort to command. He was a feared name through many of the Chaos force, especially to those that worship the Chaos Gods, his favorite victims of his onslaught. Although his hate against the gods did not go unnoticed. Eventually his forces and himself were effected by the spite of the powers that be.

Shortly before the end times, the Obliterator virus seeped into his ranks and the human slaves under his control began to rapidly mutate. This of course was treated as expected. Complete genocide of his own rank and file. Handfuls of Astartes were put to the chopping block and thousands of humans jettisoned out to cold space. Again he paid for these vile acts. As the end time finally began, His fleet was in mid warp. As he was exposed to the pure dark energies, he was teleported to the time of now. It only took a raid on the nearest human world to figure out what changes they had went through.

For months they drifted in Empty space until finding a Opponent they had no way of besting. Especially as the mutations returned, this time it was more severe than he could imagine. A Civil war erupted on his Flag ship, killing almost all the crew and forces he commanded. He never thought he ever have to bow down to anything again, but he was forced to save his brothers and his own skin. The Iron Warrior bowed to the New Emperor, not entirely with remorse. Orion see's the Power he holds and is impressed by it. Even respected him for his power. Possibly this could be the new replacement to the Corpse Emperor.

Orion has also suffered mutations to his horror. His Armor has almost cemented it to his body, now actually becoming his body. What worries him the most is this seems like the Early stages of the Obliterator virus taking hold of him.

Forces:


Human Rabble - 50,000 Armed Humans. Most are mutated to some degree. They are trained in the Degree that is similar to the old Imperiums PDF. Most of them have been gathered form Gregori's new Empire.
Vehicle Company - Several Hundred Combat Vehicles. Some he warped with and others granted to him for his disposable.
Air Wing - Over Fifty aircraft had been granted for his use.

Allegiance to Gregori:
Allegiance to Gregori: Orion hold's great respect to Gregori, but does not worship him. He also finds him a useful ally for the time, but knows to not push the man or it my be the death of the last son's of Perturabo. Orion give complete undying loyalty to Gregori, fully understanding that he is a Weapon and if he does not prove worthy, will be replaced with another.

Personal equipment:
Mark III Power Armor
Lightning Claw wrist-mounted Storm Bolter
Plasma Pistol
Jet Packs (Winged)
4x Grenades

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