Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by PrinceAlexus
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PrinceAlexus necromancer of Dol Guldur

Member Seen 6 hrs ago



Name
Tanius Von Palus

Rank
Intercessor Battle Brother.

Age
74

Gene-sire
Rogal Dorn

Personal Demeanor
A typical imperial fist in demeanor, Tanius is always driven to prove self and earn honour of colours, his inner imperial fist competing with Templer like zealously . A mixed demeanor between a Templer and Imperial fist he can be over zealous and sometimes forget the priors bolter discipline.

Description:
fully natural and not yet augmented the ice worlders skin even after his rise to marine has remained paler with piercing and unyielding blue eyes.

Hair close cropped Into a dark mohawk and several discoloration marks from old wounds that healed but even there mighty bodies could not leave without a mark.

Armour

Standard painted yellow with black aqulla and fist chapter symbol on pauldren.
Armour scuffed and scarred by years of use in the early crusade many of the small cuts in paint work remain as a mark of respect to the armors protective ability. The Aqulla is in a glossy dark metal mined on Invitt detailed with silver.

Helmet eyes glowing green with its face plate marked in a dulled bronze as a nod to ainciant Mk3 pattern Armour.

History
Born on Inwitt late in the final years of the Heresey when the system was cut off from many supplies and ships rarely made it past traitor raiding fleets times where harsh. Even for the ice world food was scarce and much of the resources and materials where sent direct to massive network of fortifications that ringed the planets and fleet bases of the Legion.

Even on a Legion home world many starved and even with brutal tithes imposed on nearby Agri planets the planets still faced hard times. Many of the clan died of over work, starvation, watching his fathers Sacrifice of his own rations to keep Tanius alive to carry on the family name.

When the Hersey ended Tanius was selected in the trials to join the Legion and begin training and augmentation to join the nightly Legion until his fate was different to his brothers. Chosen to be selected for a special purpose and shipped to Mars to become one of the mighty Primias.

Training in the halls and blasted post war plans of Mars was a shock to a ice worlder, the rad blasted wastes and ruins where inhospitable, dangerous and 10% of his training company where lost to the hangovers of the civil war.

Once awakened from the 10,000 years sleep he did not recognize much, things had changed greatly for the worse and looked even darker than those years in the Hersey. Chosen to join the crusade and drive outward beyond Terra following the primarchs reborn with pride.

The Crusade would not be easy and decades passed, after one battle he took to the chaplains advice, surviving when so many had been slain. The shame was too great and he took to spending many hours and days in the chapel before finaly emerging with a new fire to slay the emperors foes.

One of the later batches to activated He is one of the younger members of the unit to see combat during the Crusade.

Equipment and Armament:

Mark X Tacticus Power Armour
Mark II Cawl Pattern Bolt Rifle
Bolt Pistol
Frag Grenades
Krak Grenades
Standard issue combat blade


Miscellaneous: Though the Cawl pattern bolter is a fine and worthy weapon for a marine and a powerful tool to slay the enemies of man. Tanius always admired the accuracy and crafting of a Stalker bolter abality to place a round accurately at incredible ranges.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Ollumhammersong
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Ollumhammersong

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Name: Cholon-Badzar (Thunder of the mountain, or more literally translated: Stone Thunderbolt)
 
Rank: Intercessor
 
Age: 82

 Gene-sire: Jaghatai Khan
 
Personality: Cholon is a white scar, what’s more he is Chogorian. Which explains many of his decisions, habits and quirks, and his interactions towards others.
 
His mood can change as quickly as the winds and storms of his homeland. From gentle and easy compassion and comradery or roused into a terrible fury that can rival the destructive force of a macro plasma cannon.
 
He has little reason to hold animosity towards any of his brothers, as many in his chapter have cultivated towards the Raven guard or others. Long stasis having saved him from being such petty bickering being implanted into his mind. Any animosity he may feel or come to feel against a particular brother would be on a more personal level.
 
He holds reveration towards librarians and psykers who possess the ability to manipulate the ‘powers of heaven’, and pity to those entombed in sterile claustrophobia that is existence in a dreadnought sarcophagus. He distrusts those incapable of laughter, or those unwilling to accept or acknowledge glory and great deeds of themselves or others. He dislikes battle plans that keep him as a stationary object, greatly preferring to be moving in any direction.
 
Description:
His armour is white, like all white scars armour, and embossed with a proud Imperialis of bright red colour. He does not mark his armour with the same traditional honour markings as the white scars themselves but he does collect and hang trophies from his hip or shoulder guards, as his savage bretheren often do. Most often this means skulls, but sometimes strips of hide, fur or claws & fangs depending on the nature of the enemy laid low.

Uner his armour his features are unsuprisingly similar to many of his homeworld of Chogoris. His skin dark and his long hair is black as jet, his features reminiscent of a bloodline and sub-people long since extinguished from the surface of Chogoris but cirtually identical as far as those not from chogoris are concerned. Facial scars can be faintly seen, having been ritually carved into his face but his enchanced biology does not allow them to persist for very long before dissapearing.

 
History: Cholon isn’t entirely certain of his pre-stasis origins. Aside from bits and pieces, between his physical alterations, hypo-indoctrination and extra-long slumber in cryo-storage there are gaps in his memory. Not helped by the fact that his awakening, like many others was rushed by the underlings of Archmagos Cawl. In the rush to fulfill Lord Commander Gulliman’s need for a massive deployment of new troops. A degree of amnesia was not unexpected or considered alarming after such a long period of inactivity, as was told by the techpriest magos overseeing his recovery. His indoctrinated training and enhanced skills were retained throughout his slumber. Which in the end is all that truly mattered for him as a warrior.
 
He knows he is from Chogoris, but from what tribe he once held he could not say. Perhaps he was from the Odghai people? Or maybe his people once fought against the Odghai? Or with them? It was hard to say, it was one of the only names and fragments he retained from his past but he felt neither pride nor animosity towards it. Ten thousand years later it hardly mattered. Not the least which reason is that tribe and its old name had long since been forgotten by the galaxy at large and chogoris.  
 
He was awoken some decades into the indomitus crusade as reinforcement for the unnumbered sons. He didn’t even know his name at during those first confusing days. Most details about the Current state of the Imperium had to be taught to him, all he knew is that from his perspective enough time had passed that even the constellations above terra had begun to shift into unfamiliar new patterns, or maybe he they were the wrong stars to begin with? In either case this was not the galaxy he remembered, but was still the galaxy he must fight for.
 
But some details about himself he simply knew. For reasons he could not explain. He knew his lineage, and knew the name of his primarch progenitor without prompt, despite remembering virtually nothing about him other than the most basic and grand points of his legacy. He knew the call of the wind and thunder in his veins, urging him to battle the enemies of the Khan. If felt familiar and comfortable.
 
Equipment:
 
Mk X Tacticus power armour
Mk II Cawl pattern bolt rifle -w/ auxiliary grenade launcher
- Auxiliary grenade bandolier x 6
Bolt Pistol
Combat blade
Frag grenades x 2
Krak grenades x 2
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Apollosarcher
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Apollosarcher Knight with the Rowan Shield

Member Seen 8 days ago

Name: Raziel

Rank: Sargeant

Age: 90

Gene-sire: Lion'El Johnson

Personal Demeanour: Calm and collected, even more so than his kin from other Legions he is quiet and reserved. Yet his demeanor speaks to one who loves his duty and does not wish anything more than to continue to serve faithfully. He is the first to quell his brothers from a cheer upon driving back the foe or taking a position. They should not cheer, for victory is not something to revel in it is duty completed. Raziel takes pride in the squad under his command, not only should each shot they take to hit the mark but each time a blade is drawn they should match the foe blow for blow.

Where few would be happy with a squad that performs well, Raziel seeks perfection in his brothers for they are weapons of the Emperor's wrath, perfect must always be aimed for perhaps one day achieved.

Description: A large scar, runs across the right to left on his face. On top his head a fiery red hair, his forest green eyes have a piercing and emotional gaze. Slightly taller than most of the other warriors from Caliban his appearance lacks heavier scaring of most veterans.

History: Born on Caliban in ages past Raziel had been selected for augmentations, barely more than a neophyte he along with several others. They were assigned that day to help move a geneseed tithe onto a Mechanicum, however, these Neophytes once aboard were moved frozen in stasis. These marines were collected this way due to Luther not wishing to release any of his neophytes to Mechanicum under strict orders from the Lion to make them ready for the Legion and move to reinforce him once it was complete.

Raziel awoke ten thousand years later, he found the galaxy was torn apart. The last known Primarch before him along with a strange Archmagos tell him and dozens of others that they were needed to save the Imperium. The Emperor no longer walked the galaxy, his own Primarch gone believed dead, his homeworld destroyed with no clear reason known. Raziel wanted to rage and decimate the traitors for what they had done to his once proud first legion. Yet instead he turned inward and remembered his teachings, his training in tactics and battlefield assessment.

If the Lion was gone, then Caliban's last sons would give the Imperium all they had until they were gone once more. When they were armed, Raziel first goal was a simple one to master his bolt rifle. Dark angels were renowned for the flexibility they held in combat compared to other more focused Legions. He sought to demonstrate that when he had achieved his goal showing masterful skill with the rifle he worked next on the blade. He spent hours dueling Blood angels and space wolves, he took his sword play skills further until he could match those whose grasp usually exceded his Legions own.

With that achieved his skill became recognized not because he worked hard to be recognized but solely because of how hard he worked. Raziel was promoted to Sargeant and now strives to become a commander who shows excellence as well.

Equipment and Armament:



Miscellaneous: Has a deep seated love of plasma weapons and desires to have his own one day.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Bluetommy
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Bluetommy Disastrous Enby

Member Seen 2 mos ago


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