Name: Aodh Cailpeach

Chapter: Storm Wardens

Chapter Demeanour: Storm Wardens are fierce in a fight, yet honourable nonetheless; whilst their nature as a fairly isolated chapter leaves other chapters with a sense of aloofness and unapproachability, those who do gain their companionship are esteemed and protected as brothers themselves. They tend to spend the night before an action in meticulous planning, sharing quiet camraderie with their fellow warriors, and amongst their seniors engaging in ritualised duels to earn the glory of vanguarding an action.

Whilst they enjoy debate and crafting points to support their arguments and plans, something often seen as insubordinate by outsiders, dispute is a foreign word once a course of action has been agreed upon, as they hold their word to be their bond, with personal honour in particular most important of all forms. To that end, many Storm Wardens will intentionally seek the champions and commanders of enemy forces to pit themselves against, fighting with fervor yet maintaining the tactics and stratagems discussed prior.

Personal Demeanour: True to form, Aodh is as honourable as any of his brethren, though he in particular gives his word less willingly than most, reserving his vows for crucial situations. This could be taken as either less or more honourable a path, depending on how one takes it, with a varied spread within the rest of the Chapter; in Aodh's mind at least, casually offering one's promise means little if it is as casually broken, and thus they should be reserved for when they must count.

Much like his brethren, too, Aodh is quite keen on facing off against grand foes - should a champion of an enemy present itself, be it commander or squadron leader, he will happily pit himself against it without a second thought about his own safety. Unlike most Storm Wardens, he tends to put vows to slay an enemy over his chapter's meticulous planning, and in the heat of war often makes these vows much more spontaneously than he normally would; in the past, he has gained great honour from glorious kills that has propelled him up the ranks swiftly, but has also broken rank to battle an opponent that he feels has slighted him or his squadron, and in one notable instance laid low a particular Ork Warboss who had killed multiple of his closer battle-brothers, suffering both grievous injuries and the ire of his Company Captain, who had made fighting the Warboss his own burden.

With this in mind, it is worth noting that Aodh is not otherwise particularly impulsive. Even in combat, he tries to ensure his shots and strikes are cleanly made, no matter the weapon he wields, and he does his best to pick his words carefully with his allies and rivals alike, though he does have it in mind that he does not necessarily match up to a Primaris Marine in either strength or experience, partially what motivates his aggressive stance against the champions of the Imperium's enemies. For these enemies, of course, no quarter is given nor any niceties offered, and he considers the vow he made long ago- the vow all Space Marines make, to protect the Imperium from its enemies- to be of the utmost importance in all circumstances.

Speciality: Assault Marine - Specialists in melee combat, though in Aodh's case he is fairly well-versed in ranged combat and general tactics thanks to how he has progressed through the Storm Wardens' Companies prior to Sergeanthood.

Rank: Assault Sergeant, 3rd Company.

Power Armour History: Aodh's armour has previously been worn by a succession of Assault Marines, all with a keen interest in closing to melee range as soon as possible. In particular, a previous wearer and his squadron assisted in routing and annihilating a force of Tyranids assailing a world, thanks to their rapid action in taking out the Hive Tyrant controlling those in the area mere minutes after combat was joined, and this rapidity of action has carried over ever since, rendering the user's movements that much more immediate in all areas.

Description: Even in spite of his relatively young age, Aodh is quite a scarred individual. A combination of duels in the name of honour and more than a few fights he probably ought to have avoided have provided quite an array of wounds over time, including a healed-over cut ranging up the side of his head and past his left temple, and a particularly savaged right arm and abdomen after a battle with an Ork Warboss, these much fresher scars than most on his body, and in many places outright rebuilt with artificial materials. Other than this, he is not necessarily striking, with the typical bulky build of a Storm Warden and the muscles to match his melee acumen; light skin presents where black carapace ports and scar tissue do not, baby blue eyes remain aware and alert at all times, and a crew cut of brown hair tops his skull, service studs aside. Lastly, the tattoo of his clan of origin is marked in electric blue on his right cheek, a burning cloud over an animalistic human skull.

His power armour, under normal circumstances, bears the same colours as any normal Storm Warden - primarily blue, with light silver-grey colours on their boots, greaves, hands, and pauldrons, with the markings of his chapter and company in blue on the left and right pauldrons respectively. Additionally, joining the lightning bolt shield on the left is the Iron Skull indicating his sergeantry in red, further accompanied by the painting of his armour's helm in red, though it lacks the white stripe indicating additional veterancy, as well as the Imperialis carved on his chestplate signifying both righteous victory over the Imperium's enemies and loyalty to Emperor, Imperium, and the Chapter. It is also clear to a keen eye that it has suffered damage in the past, despite repair and repainting, with slightly different component makes or ceramite textures on some areas, again specifically the right arm and abdomen. Naturally, once properly inducted into the Deathwatch, this will be fully blacked out, save a gunmetal left arm with scripted pauldron and the chapter colours and symbol on the right pauldron. Outside of armour, he sticks to the typical robes of a Space Marine, again largely blue and silver-grey, with the chapter symbol on his chest, and again replaced with all-black Deathwatch robes bearing the Storm Wardens' lightning bolt shield on the chest.

Skills: Beyond the typical mental, physical, and martial abilities of any Space Marine, Aodh is particularly skilled when it comes to melee combat, and one-on-one duels with heavy weapons most of all. This is perhaps a given for an Assault Sergeant, and no less for many Storm Wardens, but in Aodh's case especially, he has proven his melee acumen time and again in one-on-one combat against a wide variety of alien enemies, surprisingly not just a matter of besting one's prime foe, but of remaining vigilant enough to ensure that a less honourable enemy doesn't attack from behind whilst one is occupied, a situation that has presented itself to Aodh in the past, as well as maintaining the reflexes and agility to evade attacks from both primary and secondary opponents when blocking such attacks is an unlikely option.

As a sergeant, of course, he also bears a significant degree of tactical skill, able to direct his fellow Marines and lesser men toward the best, or at least the worthiest, course of action in battle. To some extent, though, he is also quite keen in wider-scale strategic matters, a side-effect of regular pre-battle discussions with his fellow Storm Wardens regarding all manner of future foes both potential and real, not to mention a keen debater on these and other topics.

Thanks to the Calixis Sector's relative proximity to the Eye of Terror, and consequently to the Northwestern tip of the Great Rift, Aodh has also faced more than his fair share of daemonic activity even prior to the arrival of the Indomitus Crusade, and has if nothing else a great deal of experience fending off Chaos daemons and heretics alike, alongside a keen awareness of what does or does not constitute daemonic activity both subtle and gross.

History: Aodh's life began, as one may expect, on the Forbidden World of Sacris, wherein one presumes Aodh the Child stood out among his peers even in youth, consequently succeeded in besting the planetary hazards and ritual combats of the Chapter's recruitment trials, and was borne to Highcastle to be reborn as Aodh the Neophyte. Several years and many implants later came his first mission as a Scout Marine, a relatively simple endeavour to execute a Tau Ethereal and his bodyguards. In short, slight complications were present in the form of more troops than expected, but ultimately, the squad survived this and several other missions mostly intact, and soon enough, a particularly daring takedown of a Fire Warrior captain by Aodh himself proved his worth in particular to the Scout Sergeant. And so the Black Carapace was implanted, and Aodh the Neophyte ascended to become Aodh the Astartes.

Consequently, Aodh experienced something of a cruel irony when, not half a decade after the fact of his full acceptance into the Storm Wardens, the Cicatrix Maledictum ripped the Imperium in half, and the Primaris Marines first made their presence known to the galaxy not long after, reaching the Calixis Sector comparatively swiftly in the process thanks to the Nachmund Gauntlet's proximity. The existential horror of the Storm Wardens' homeworld being left without the Astronomican and in the midst of potential destruction by the hordes of the Warp might have crushed lesser men than the Space Marines, the Wardens themselves only overcoming the issue until Guilliman's arrival through their innate stubbornness; indeed, through this gauntlet Aodh found himself tested time and again, never succumbing to the temptations of Chaos as some of his brothers did, and in reaffirming his loyalty to Emperor and Chapter alike earned the honour of bearing the Imperialis just as with many of his brothers before him, in his case a few weeks before the Indomitus Crusade finally alleviated the chapter's woes.

Yet whilst daemon and traitor alike did not shake the Storm Wardens' overall faith, it was something of a shock for Aodh personally to realise that not only did he lack the potency of the new breed of superhuman Guilliman presented to refill the Storm Wardens' ranks, strong enough to wield their claymores but one-handed and quick as lightning to boot, but he also lacked the experience that older Firstborn were looked up to for, for they had all of course faced down damnation and made it flinch. In other words, he was practically beneath notice... and it was perhaps this that drove him to such particular ambitions, to prove he could exceed what he considered a lack of ability.

The reality, apparently, was quite the opposite. It took a lot of skill, after all, to repeatedly best foes that by all rights had every opportunity to end the life of a young Space Marine, especially in a campaign as aggressive as the Indomitus Crusade. Every opportunity he could, he would aim to personally kill the leaders of a given horde, frequently sustaining injuries in the moment and, less often, censure after the fact as a result; in many cases, too, he found himself making a hurried vow to slay even lesser foes for the simple crime of attacking his squadron, forcing him to break ranks to finish them off before returning as if no error had been made on his part.

Naturally, whilst the feats he achieved were in concert substantial, so too were the numerous faults in his judgement, likely slowing his rise in rank from meteoric to merely rapid; nonetheless, he eventually persevered to rise through the various companies, passing through the Reserve Companies after forty years, then through the four Battle Companies within the next three decades. He had proven himself enough in close quarters to earn his Iron Skull and become an Assault Sergeant of the 8th Company in his eighth or ninth decade of service, and finally rose to a 3rd Company Assault Sergeant by the Indomitus Crusade's official end, known for both his substantial battle skill and his sometimes-reckless behaviour.

It would be this reckless behaviour that led to the gruesome wounds on his arm and chest. Some time after the Crusade's end, as the Storm Wardens 3rd Company fought to eradicate an Orkish threat on another world in the Calixis Sector, several members of his squadron were cut down by gunfire from the Warboss known as Dreddnort, an undeniable slight against his honour and theirs. To that end, Aodh made his inevitable vow, and charged the hulking creature without fear - and without awareness that the Third Company's Captain Calum Chulaine had also vowed to slay the beast, held at bay merely by a morass of Nobs guarding the greenskin. Nonetheless, their fight was relatively swift; an exchange of gunfire as they approached, and a melee that ended with Aodh's blade knocked aside, and his body and arm gripped and crushed by Dreddnort's power klaw, one blade even going so far as to pierce into the Marine's heart. Even as this happened, however, Aodh's free hand gripped his claymore tightly, and brought it round to first remove the crown of the Warboss' head, and then to pierce it through the thing's jaw and brain, twisted until it fell lifeless and dropped Aodh to the ground.

He awoke from his slumber well after the battle had ended, brought out of suspended animation in an apothecarium with much of his body healed to functionality, but much also rebuilt out of necessity, including a bionic replacement for the destroyed heart lost to the Warboss' klaw. Not long afterward, Captain Chulaine demanded his presence, questioning his actions, and noting that if not for the last conscious warrior of his squadron from that fight, none would even have been aware it was Aodh who had performed the kill. Even so, the Captain was strangely lacking in obvious fury, instead ultimately commending Aodh's quick hand in the face of death, and making it known that this had drawn the attention of the Tempest Blades within the Storm Warden's 1st Company. If a more glorious and honourable path than death as a Tempest Blade was available, Aodh could not see it.

But, it was not to be his path, at least not for the time being. Instead of promotion to veterancy of any sort, Aodh received word upon the Deathwatch's next call for recruits that his captain had, indeed, seen fit to recommend him for his alien-hunting skill, with his physical ability and spiritual sanctity confirmed by Apothecary and Chaplain respectively. Aodh highly suspected that Captain Chulaine had instigated this series of events purposely, as an indirect punishment for allowing his oath to supercede his captain's - whilst technically an honour to be seconded to the Deathwatch, it was also very convenient that it removed him from the wider chapter and the eye of the Tempest Blades. Nonetheless, it wasn't an honour that could be refused, and Aodh did his best to accept it graciously, setting off as soon as the shuttle came for him, toward a future that he hoped would prove honourable in its own way.

Equipment and Armament:

• Mk. VI Corvus power armour - Slightly less protective than the Mk. VII Aquila pattern, Corvus power armour makes up for this with enhanced agility and auto-senses by comparison. Also carried are three batches of repair cement, to ensure the armour remains intact and environmentally sealed in the heat of combat.
• Jump pack - With limited flight capabilities, the user is more than capable of moving at great speeds across a battlefield, especially toward greater foes than would otherwise be accessible, so as to mow them down in a hail of bolts or tear them asunder with blade in hand.
• Godwyn-pattern bolt pistol with shot selector - Standard-issue bolt pistol, able to choose between up to three different bolt types. For Aodh's purposes, however, all three are occupied by standard bolt clips under normal circumstances, simply rendering a "reload" much simpler.
• Chainsword - Standard-issue Astartes chainsword, about twice the size of an equivalent human-scale weapon. With rending adamantine teeth, the chainsword can cut through most forms of armour as readily as it will eviscerate flesh and bone.
• Sacris claymore - A version of the primitive claymores on the Storm Wardens' homeworld, upsized and improved for Astartes use; each requires two hands to make proper use of, and in many cases such as Aodh's is wielded in place of the more typical Astartes combat knife.
• Frag & krak grenades - Explosives. Frag grenades have a wider spread of shrapnel and work better against light armour, whilst krak grenades do much heavier concussive damage in a more concentrated region.
• Tempest Amulet - A small leather pouch containing a chunk of rock, fused into glass by Sacris' wild storms and wrapped in prayer scripts. It serves not only as a focus for Aodh's force of will, but as a reminder that any individual can affect great changes through that will in tandem with great strength, all the more pertinent for the superhuman Astartes.

Miscellaneous: Due to the particular circumstances of the Noctis Aeterna, Sacris and the Calixis Sector's uncomfortably close position to the Great Rift, and his homeworld's pre-existing Ogryn population and the chapter's consequent acclimation to such matters, Aodh bears a much more relaxed stance toward abhumans than many Imperials might consider acceptable for a Space Marine. This, however, comes not from laxity, but from knowing through experience where the lines between acceptable and unacceptable genetic deviation are located, as well as how to tell whether that deviation is natural or Chaos-inspired. Thus, he is much less likely to view relatively minor physical alterations negatively that other Marines might find detestable, in humans or even in other Astartes.

Name: Forgepriest Lelandros

Chapter: Salamanders

Chapter Demeanour: Compassionate, Methodical. The Salamanders are known for two things besides their burning flames; their careful consideration of the actions they take, and their compassionate nature towards the citizens of the Imperium that are caught up in the constantly violent maelstrom that swirls through the galaxy. Lelandros is endemic of the first quality- each strike of his servo-harness or gout of flame is carefully placed to maximise its impact, but the training he has been put through has dulled the latter quality in him. He is colder than the average Salamander, but his fire burns yet hotter.

Personal Demeanour: Unlike many Salamanders, Lelandros never returned to Nocturne after his ascension to Prometheus. Although the chapter's values of compassion and protectiveness were imbued upon him by proxy, the Omnissiah's cold logic and the training of the Deathwatch have rendered him far icier than the typical Salamander. In a more literal sense however, he is far from icy- like all of Vulkan's sons, he has an extreme proclivity to reach towards melta and flamer, his time spent burning out xenos, root and stem certainly contributing to this.

Unusually for a space marine, he acts quite aloof when it comes to his comrades-in-arms, preferring the company of machines over man. If given the choice between a conversation with a chaplain and blessing the machine spirit of a land raider, he will always choose the latter. This, however, should not be taken as a lack of morale, cohesion or willingness to both take and issue commands- in battle he can match an Imperial Fist with his stalwartness. If ground is to be held, you can be sure to find Lelandros's boots firmly planted into said ground, and if a location is to be taken, he will apply every aspect of his training and arsenal to capturing it.
Speciality: Forgepriest (Techmarine)

Rank: If he was a regular marine, his seniority would place him as a sergeant, but techmarines operate on a separate axis.

Power Armour History: Like all Salamanders, Lelandros' armour has been extensively modified and changed by the marine himself. It has served many brothers before him, but it was under his tutelage that it was wrought into its current form, green and red mingling together with gunmetal inlays where gold would lie. Although once a thing of beauty, its appearance has been rather tarnished by the heavy-handed application of black, and the machine spirit of Lelandros' armour hasn't forgiven him for what it views as an irredeemable insult. Lelandros frequently has to placate the ancient machine spirit, and more than once he has felt it pull at him as if to complain.

Description: All Salamanders share a peculiar change in their geneseed- slowly, over the course of their lives, their skins will turn a pure, charcoal black. Lelandros skin turned onyx decades ago, and his eyes smoulder an evil-looking red, although perhaps they make him seem a little too much of an intimidating figure. Above his eye gleam no less than four service studs- showing him to be a veteran of no less than eighty years of glorious combat under the Salamanders.

In addition to the honours implanted in his head, his armour also displays an unusual sight. The right side of his armour, rather than being totally blank, instead holds the image of a roaring bonfire, the intricate symbols within showing Lelandros to be a member of the honoured Order of the Fire of Ry'lan. In addition to this, his back is adorned with a great drakeskin cape. With this billowing behind him and the roar of flames around him, Lelandros' form has been the last thing many enemies of the Imperium have laid eyes upon.

Skills: Lelandros has laboured long over the fires of a forge. His form, charcoal and adorned, has been scorched by flames countless times, and each one of these scorchings counts as a lesson into the art of making the broken whole, the simple complex. Like most Forgepriests, Lelandros' skill in engineering weapons of war is impeccable, and his hands have produced works of art as lethal as they are beautiful.

Beyond forging, Lelandros battlefield repair skills are second-to-none. Less-than-gentle coaxing of the machine spirit on his part has brought back artillery and vehicles alike across the scattered worlds of the Imperium. Even beyond this mechanical expertise, Lelandros is certainly no tactical fool. His veterancy has given him similar insight to a sergeant- and if it came down to it, he would have no difficulty in providing direct, accurate commands to other brothers.

History: Many Salamanders share a similar story when it comes to their forging into a battle brother. Born an unusually strong youth, Lelandros' early childhood growth already put him ahead of his youths. In playfights he often came out on top, and he was the quickest when it came to gathering supplies and the sharpest when it came to his learning. This intelligence and strength were not missed by the leader of the tribe in which he lived- a Salamanders Devastator Marine named Agamites. Agamites would see the strength within Lelandros and, with the whole-hearted acceptance of his parents, begin to guide him through the difficult path that would see him ascend to Prometheus as a fully blooded member of the Salamanders.

Although well rounded in most aspects of his training, Lelandros showed particular ability when it came to craftsmanship and engineering. Whilst others in his position were still learning to assemble a stubber, he was hammering out copper inlay for a flamer. When others were busying themselves with flak armour, he was putting the finishing touches on a carapace bodyplate. After he had captured his first Fire Drake and received the genetic implants, it took little time before he was shipped off to Mars, where he learned the ways of the technocracy at a startlingly speedy pace. Returning as a revered Forgepriest, Lelandros would set off on his first true campaign- the eradication of a splinter of Hive Fleet Jormagundr, which, having buried itself deep within the ground, required the sort of deep scorching that could only be found in blessed promethium. In wretched tunnels and mineshafts deep beneath the surface, Lelandros would time and time again be the bulwark of the squads that fought there, fixing damaged armour, weapons and vital equipment, his flamers searing corruption from metal and restoring brilliance to the machines which his battle brothers used. Alas however, these fights would be in vain- as the Imperial forces worked their way deeper and deeper into the planet, they would find themselves in vast crypts, filled with strangely metallic skeletons. The Salamanders would end up detonating the tunnels they had fought so valiantly to clear, buying as much time as they could for the citizens on the surface to flee before the assorted fleets above the surface discharged their payloads- volley after volley of armaments unloaded until the very mantle was rent and the world was turned into an asteroid field from which the necrons would eternally rest.

From there, he would be redeployed to another world beset by dug in xenos that could re-emerge: Orks. This, he took to with even greater zeal, the forgepriest's most notable action being the assistance he leant to a tank column of Imperial Guardsmen- repairing and resanctifying their flame-spewing Chimeras during one particularly hellish push into the Orkoid lines. It was from this battlefield that he was plucked from, his armour to be blackened and his services required by the Deathwatch.

Equipment and Armament: Perhaps the most obvious piece of equipment that Lelandros has is not, strictly speaking, even 'equipment.' His servo arm- a single long, powerful mechanical limb forged in brass and green carries its own tools and weapons, vital to both the upkeep of equipment under Lelandros' oversight as well as for destroying those foolish enough to stand in his way. The ends of these servo-arms can be customised somewhat, but generally he sticks with one of the most common configurations- a plasma cutter/welder that can be used to slice through even the toughest of armour whilst also reforging shattered plasteel.

Apart from his servo-arm, he carries two main pieces of equipment; One is the standard techmarine Omnissan Axe- intricately designed head making the blade look like both cog teeth and flames gushing from the mouth of a great red drake, whilst the other is a potent combi-bolter, made by his own two hands in Nocturn's forges. Underslung to an already astoundingly artistic bolter is a slightly oversized flamer (for combi sizes,) capable of unleashing two scorching gouts of holy promethium per deployment. Lastly, across Lelandros' back is perhaps more of an indication of his chapter than his blackened armour, for there sits a drakeskin cape, the fireproof scales flowing like water with each movement he takes.

Name: Atrias

Chapter: Atrias belong to the Imperial Fists Space Marine Chapter

Chapter Demeanour: Courage, sacrifice and Steadfastness. The Imperial Fists treat their Primarch's (Rogal Dorn's) final actions as an example of how they should act. Dorn's final moments were of courage and supreme sacrifice. This example drives the Imperial Fist to push on where others would yield, leading to victory against all odds, though it is often at the cost of many lives.

Personal Demeanour: Atrias, like other imperial fists, is steadfast and courageous, motivated by Rogal Dorn's example. Atrias believes himself to be weak and a coward compared to his brothers despite his age and experience and thus strives continuously to prove himself (often at the cost of his own health) and will never accept failure as an option. Atrias has extreme respect for Imperial Guardsmen and his fellow battle-brothers and will often go out of his way to render aid to his comrades believing it his duty. Atrias often gravitates towards squad mates or others around him that he deems as "honourable," preferring their company over other (less honourable) warriors.

Speciality: Tactical Marine (capable of serving as an assault marine or devastator)

Rank: Veteran Tactical Marine

Power Armour History: Atrias wears a set of MK.VII "Aquila" Power armour nicknamed "Immortal" due to its ability to never be destroyed completely, regardless of the state of its wearer. "Immortal" always seems to be repairable. It has survived countless battles and suffered damage that would render most suits inoperable (most notably being: stepped on by gargant). The Immortal armour has been passed around in the chapter a significant number of times (often due to the violent death of the operator.) While the armour itself hasn't had an illustrious career, it certainly has seen its fair share of action and has been used by hundreds of other battle-brothers who each had their fair share of achievements and honours, the armour itself having seen combat against nearly enemy in the galaxy and will likely continue to do so long after Atrias's falls.

Description: Atrias looks a lot like a standard space marine, with Caucasian skin and, of course, his impressive size. The only visible differences are the cybernetic right eye he received during his time as an assault marine, the other being a few tattoos that would fit more on an imperial guardsman, including an Astra Militarum tattoo on his right shoulder. His natural eye is brown, and he has short black hair. His attire is often quite simple, usually only robes.

Atrias's armour is much like standard Aquila armour with a considerable amount of dents and scarring, painted as per standard Imperial fist colours aside from the helmet, which has been half painted Astra Militarum green and has the numbers of an imperial guard regiment painted on the green side. He has also painted a red line across his helmet's right eye to symbolize his eye's loss.

Skills: Atrias possesses a jack of all trades skill set, he's spent a great deal of time tirelessly practicing all of his potential roles, regardless of his current position, he still trains as a devastator and an assault marine, keeping his skills sharp and tested is a focus of his. Besides his training, he is notable for being a proficient duelist and marksman, slightly more so than most of his Battle Brothers. Atrias also possess an intense ability to not accept defeat, often ignoring retreat orders and pressing forward regardless of the threat to his life. Atrias is also surprisingly compassionate towards normal humans and will (when paired to a standard human unit) match his own speed and pace to them, preferring to keep them alive than make quick (and terribly dangerous for non-Space Marines) progress.

History:

Atrias was recruited into the Imperial fists from a hive world's underground. He was initially a gang enforcer to a violent group but was captured in a raid before being brutally tested by the imperial fists along with other captives. His acceptance was as brutal as could be expected, having to duel a space marine he barely held his own, and while not succeeding in the fight, he showed his skills as a warrior. Many of his friends and fellow captives died in testing, leaving him one of 3 to actually succeed in the trials and become a neophyte.

As a neophyte Atrias was nothing special, he became a scout and performed adequately, not impressing his superiors much but succeeding in surviving till the end of his indoctrination. After receiving his final implants and ascending into a full space marine, his early tenure was mostly uneventful until his promotion to assault marine. As an assault marine, Atrias finally began showing significant signs of skill during an Ork incursion. Atrias had single-handedly defeated an Ork Warboss and his entire Nob entourage, though his fight was brutal and bloody, he made it through the battle. Alive. But without the use of one of his eyes (and an Ork Choppa lodged in his helmet.)

Atrias was promoted shortly after his success against the Orks to a tactical marine, and he was assigned to a garrison in a backwater, Ork-infested planet. At first, Atrias was a hot-headed and brash warrior, charging any Orks he could find with little thought of the imperial guardsmen behind him. During his time in the Garrison, he grew fond of the imperial guardsmen he had been fighting alongside, often slowing (and eventually completely stopping) his brash and borderline suicidal charges. During this time, he started to prefer spending his time not with his battle-brothers but with the guardsmen. This (while unusual) was not stopped by his superiors and led Atrias to start approaching combat with a slower and more considerate approach.

After spending a great deal of time on this assignment, he was eventually recalled to his warship, and he ultimately achieved the rank of a veteran but was quickly transferred to the Deathwatch due to his lack of cohesion with his battle brothers.

Equipment and Armament: Atrias has the standard tactical marine loadout, his only additions being his "Immortal" armour, chainsword and a medkit.

Name: Parion Sharratar

Chapter: Black Swords

Chapter Demeanour: The Black Swords are a loyalist Space Marine Chapter raised during an unknown Founding, their origins a mystery subject to much speculation. The minor genetic mutation that they exhibit in the form of unsettling, completely black eyes certainly could raise some questions, but it is the Chapter's demeanor in combat that is most responsible for the scrutiny they are subjected to. In the heat of battle they slaughter with unrestrained enthusiasm, displaying a bloodlust few can match as they gleefully cut their enemies down with boltgun fire and roar savagely when tearing them apart with chainswords or even their bare hands.

However, and despite the appearances, the Black Swords are not mindless berserkers. Their strict discipline and strong bonds of brotherhood allows them to not become overwhelmed by their lust for battle and slaughter, instead turning it into a weapon to be unleashed when the time is right. Although the Chapter adheres to the Codex Astartes in principle, complying with the standard thousand Battle-Brothers limit, their organisation and tactics deviate quite substancially. They consider the Codex Astartes to be a useful guide and a treasure trove of information and tactical wisdom, but not without potential blind spots or inadequacies depending on the situation. The Black Swords do not believe in battle honour and are more than willing to employ every trickery and low blows available if it can grant them victory. As a result, their tactics are very unpredictable and often unconventional, but also quite effective.

Surprisingly, the Chapter regularly sends some of its best warriors to serve in the Deathwatch. In fact, the Black Swords have a rather close relationship with the Ordo Xenos, as a way to shield themselves from the zealous Inquisitors of the Ordo Hereticus.

Personal Demeanour: Like his battle-brothers, Parion appreciates combat and killing with the same savage joy. This contrasts heavily with his otherwise friendly and brotherly attitude. The relatively young Black Sword seeks out companionship with other Astartes, and even mortals on the rare occasions that his Chapter is deployed alongside Imperial Guard elements. Many outsiders find this rather particular blend of a personality somewhat unsettling or outright disturbing, as he will gladly exchange war stories and have pleasant conversations on one day and be found on the next in the midst of ferocious bloodshed, barely recognizable as he would emerge from the battle covered with his foe's innards and holding a bloodied new trophy in his armored gauntlet.

One would be ill-advised to take Parion for a mere killer, though. He has a keen tactical mind and takes his duties very seriously, and he is not likely to let anyone making light of his capabilities as one of the Imperium's elites get off easily. Nevertheless, he is aware that pride can be a fault and is not the type to make it a personal offense of every comment and criticism. It is worth noting that he does hold some strong opinions of his own, notably on those Chapters who strictly adhere to the Codex Astartes, a reflection of his own Chapter's tense relationships with the sons of Guilliman. In a rather predictable fashion, he usually does not particularly appreciate those of outstanding religious zeal either, who in turn tend to consider him and his brethren as dangerous degenerates.

Speciality: Close-range and melee specialist.

Rank: Fourth Company Veteran. The Black Swords do not regroup all of their veterans in a single company; instead, every company has its own veteran squads.

Power Armour History: When a Black Sword rises to the rank of Veteran, he leaves his power armour behind to be in the care of a fresh initiate, and instead dons the armour of one of the Veterans who preceded him and fell in battle. These suits of power armour consequently have much history attached to them, each new owner adding his deeds to its story and legend. Parion's is no exception, made up of parts from different models as they had to be replaced throughout the centuries. The helmet and greaves, both of the Mk IV "Maximus" pattern, are obvious witnesses of a long and glorious past. According to the Chapter's Librarius, this suit saw service during the Great Heresy and was donned by great heroes who ultimately suffered a cruel death at the hands of traitors. Since then, the successive owners of the suit have been recorded as powerful combatants, either seeking out and slaying the enemy's champions or slaughtering their soldiers in droves. Parion's predecessor was very different from the one who would take his place; a hulking beast of a Space Marine, whose strength and savagery alike were unmatched in the whole company and who was said to have killed more than two hundred Orks in a single engagement. The Chapter Artificers had to resize the Power Armour substancially so it would properly fit its new owner.

Description: His pale skin and copper-red hair contrast with his Chapter's typical pitch black eyes, only a faint lighter circle indicating the direction in which he's looking. A diagonal scar runs down his angular face and onto his collarbone, where an eldar blade perforated his armour when he was but an initiate. He collected many other scars over the years, a proof of his bravery for facing down exceptional foes and talent for defeating them.

Parion Sharratar wearing his black and grey armour is an intimidating sight. The arms are wrapped with chains that are traditionally used for the Black Swords' gladiatorial fights, and a human skull hangs from his belt; a trophy taken from an Astartes Chaos sorcerer. An eldar spirit stone is strapped onto the pauldron that bears the heraldic crossed swords of the Chapter, a reminder of the warrior who came closest to killing him.

Skills: Parion is an excellent swordsman and displays a sense of balance that is truly exceptional, even for an Astartes. From his integration as a neophyte he displayed an affinity for melee combat and a remarkable ability to fire on instinct accurately, and he put these traits to good use against xenos and traitors alike. He has shown perfectly adequate skill in the other forms of Astartes warfare, but this made him a prime candidate for becoming an assault specialist.

History: Parion does not remember much of his early life. Taken by the Black Swords' apothecaries at a young age from the feudal world of Talison, he just barely managed to pass the trials and for a time it looked like he would be a rather mediocre recruit, just worthy enough to become a Space Marine but nothing more. But as he trained, fought and recieved the geneseed implants that would gradually make him an Astartes, he showed incredible improvements. Something had awoken in him and he quickly became the best fighter of all his comrades who were selected around the same time. Whatever attachement he could have had to his previous family, he found a new one among the Emperor's Angels of Death.

While he never showed the qualities of a commander, his name kept coming up after every campaign that he took part in. He seemed to always go just beyond the achievements and ferocity of his peers, who were formidable warriors in their own right, and was rarely defeated in the gladiatorial fights he often participated in. Despite the distrust that the rest of the Imperium displayed towards his Chapter and himself, Parion lived a fulfilling life in the company of his brothers.

He faced his greatest challenge when his company's strike cruiser succeded in tracking down a traitor Astartes warship that had been conducting piracy operations in the sector. The Black Swords boarded the vessel and set off to crippling the ship by attacking the engine blocks and the bridge, and Parion found himself in the vanguard heading towards the bridge, shooting and hacking his way towards the enemy command center with his squad. But as the loyalists finally overcame the renegade Space Marines barring their way and forced the bridge's blast doors open with melta charges, they came under a devastating psychic attack, vile sorcery burning through their power armour with unnatural blue flames. Many died at the sorcerer's hands, but Parion avoided the eldritch fire with the speed and agility that granted him victory so many times. Closing in on the traitor, he ignored the whispers that promised him strength and power as the two Space Marines crossed swords. The fight was blindingly fast-paced, each of them receiving wound after wound until the Black Sword finally managed to grab a hold of his opponent's arm and twisted it behing his back, before unloading his plasma pistol at point blank range into the sorcerer's neck, vaporising his flesh and spine and severing his head clean off his shoulders.

After this exploit, Parion was set to become part of his company's Veterans, the Chapter's elite, despite his relatively young age for an Astartes. However, the masters of the Black Swords had taken notice of him and planned to send him to accomplish a vigil for the Deathwatch. This was a great honour awarded to him, being chosen to represent his Chapter in this prestigious order. But it was also a new challenge of a very different kind, for the young Astartes who watched the closing airlock doors of the shuttle that was to carry him to the Watch Fortress felt like he missed his brothers already.

Equipment and Armament: Although he is proficient with any weapon in the Adeptus Astartes' arsenal, Parion's arms of choice are the standard Astartes chainsword and a bolt pistol as well as a plasma pistol, swapping between the two during combat depending on his current need.

Name: Baruchiel Ventarian

Chapter: Disciples of Caliban

Chapter Demeanour:
Noble and virtuous is what characterizes the Disciples of Caliban, faithful to the Emperor, and zealous in their pursuit of the Fallen. Ventarian holds true to this, often not engaging in combat until his enemy has a weapon in hand and never leaving a battle-brother to suffer on the field of combat. This Apothecary holds himself to morales that seem generous until it is known that he only does so to stay within the good graces of the Emperor. Granted, the Disciples of Caliban do still retain a bit of the zeal to hunt the Fallen, especially the Fallen one known as Cipher and this zeal does extend to Ventarian.

Personal Demeanour:

While honourable, kind, and otherwise an upstanding individual it is clear that Ventarian does not act out of the good graces of his own hearts as he does not go out of his way to do things that he does not seem as important. He acts to stay within the good graces of the Emperor himself taking on the tasks of shielding humanity, even going as far as to heal the mortal human when he feels the need. Of course, he does so out of a begrudging need to appease the Emperor rather than the kindness of his own hearts. Ventarian is a pragmatist, knowing who should be worthy of saving and whose gene-seed he must deliver. It is because of this that when he speaks with his battle brothers, it may sound as if he is cold and calloused even if he has a genuine care for those that he serves alongside in the heat of battle.

Yet, when asked what he thinks of the future, all he speaks of is his own death, a death that he could envision to be a glorious end to his life. Ventarius looks up to his predecessors, wanting to match their efforts as an apothecary, to even surpass them before his eventual death. It is this drive, along with his faithfulness to the Emperor, that drives him forwards and into the arms of victory. It was one of the reasons he was chosen to become a part of Deathwatch, not only seeing it as his duty, but also the way to surpass his predecessors in their legends.

Of course, he does also have a firm hate for the Fallen that his Parent Chapter has instilled into him since even before he was inducted as a full space marine.

Speciality: Apothecary

Rank: 2nd Company Apothecary

Power Armour History:

Ventarius is not the first to wear the MK. VII, nor will he be the last, and while there is nothing outwardly special about the armor itself what was special was the line of apothecaries that wore it into battle. All Apothecaries of the 2nd Company in the Disciples of Caliban have heard of this armor, the legend of how the armor is both blessed and cursed. For the apothecaries who use this armor all die in the end, but their ends are all glorious as the successor before Ventarius had carried ten marines from danger, under threat of enemy fire before he fought to defend his incapacitated brothers. That apothecary was found dead when reinforcements had gotten to them, the ten Astartes all stable and scores of dead enemies around the apothecary. Such is the mantle that the 2nd Company bears, the mantle that Ventarius now brings with him. The scarred armor expects Ventarius to die, a fact that he has come to terms with.

Description:

Ventarius is a very plain Astartes bearing a shaved head and pale skin, his visage being no different than some of the more standard of his battle-brothers. His form is surely scarred from battle, granted that form looks over an Astartes outside of his power armor, being taller than many other space marines and even rivaling those closer to relation to Primarch Vulkan. That said, it does not stop him from being any more plain than a small box as, outside of his armor, he simply wears a white tabard which still holds the symbol of the Disciples of Caliban, allowing all to know who his parent Chapter is.

His armor, however, is far more complex as it holds the scars of many battles before it, showing wear the armor had been pierced and subsequently reforged. These portions have not been painted over, being badged of pride and remembrance to the apothecaries of the past, showing how all of the past have given their lives for the Emperor and their brothers. That said, the armor is predominantly a dark green along the chest and pauldrons with the knee pads and lower legs sharing the same color, the rest sharing black coloration.

Skills:

As an apothecary, Ventarius is a medic and he is certainly a very knowledgeable and talented one as he has saved the lives of a great many battle-brothers. He has been trained since he was a Neophyte, showing an aptitude for biology and medical application. Ventarius has shown a great knowledge of the gene-seed of his chapter and, since his induction into the Deathwatch, extends to the other gene-seeds present within the chapter.

Of course, he is also a great combatant through the use of his weaponry, being a crack shot with his plasma pistol and bolter. Oftentimes he is able to hip fire these weapons and meet his mark without too great an effort, able to hold his own against those that would seek to charge into melee with him. Ventarius does not use his combat knife, instead preferring to fire his bolter at close range as to be able to defend those too injured to fight.

History:

Ventarius' story actually starts back when he was but a mere Neophyte, when he was little more than a scout marine serving in his parent chapter. He served loyally and faithfully the entire time, proving to be an accurate shot and one able to do so quickly and often without question given the order. Yet, this is not the story, it was a time where he and his squad were caught out in the open and under heavy fire from a renegade force that sought to be free from the Emperor’s light. Ventarius commanding officer had been wounded protecting his squadmates, having sustained grevious wounds that would have seen him dead had Ventarius not acted to quickly attempt to stabilize the Astartes. Once the scouts had been able to evacuate, his sergeant had survided due to the quick thinking of Ventarius and so it had been decided that his deeds had been sufficient to have him pushed to become an Astartes and train to be an apothecary.

The Apothecary took this training in stride, quickly learning the procedures needed to extract the gene seed out of fallen brothers and administer their version of euthenasia. Ventarius was proven to have an affinity for it, but he had grown cocky and full hearty, a personality that had made him lose one too many patients. It was for this recklessness that earned him a humbling reward, the Armor of the Fallen Apothecaries, a cursed piece of armor that sealed his doom, his death. It was for this that Ventarius had immediately changed his ways to seek to gain the favor of the Emperor once more. Knowing that his death would come, he hoped it would mean that he would have been by the Emperor’s side in death. That was all he could hope and want, and the results showed as he grew more careful and more attentive to never have another brother fall under his watch.

Through his many years of duty and his skills, it was for this reason that he was chosen by Deathwatch, an offer he readily accepted to prove himself to the Emperor. Ventarius felt that with the vigil he would be able to better serve the Emperor, but it was his Company Master that informed him that he would be serving to make sure there were no Fallen amongst the ranks of Deathwatch. Knowing that his loyalty was to his Chapter, he took upon the task, wanting to make sure that he could destroy any of such corruption. The Apothecary steeled himself, ready to die in the name of the Emperor and to end the xenos threat all while ready to execute the Fallen the first chance he got in the name of the Lion and Caliban.

Equipment and Armament:

• Bolter
• Plasma Pistol
• Frag and Krak Grenades
• Diagnostor Helmet
• Narthecium
• Reductor

Miscellaneous:N/A

Name: Yndrasil.

Chapter: Void Stalkers.

Chapter Demeanour: The Void Stalkers are extremely rigid and emotionless both in combat and out. They serve their Chapter Master, Gorseval the Dark Star, with unquestionable loyalty, as they engage in a seemingly endless hunt through the dark fringes of the galaxy, beyond the reach of the Imperium and the light of the Astronomicon -- further even than the Ghoul Stars over which the Death Spectres stand vigil. The Void Stalkers do so aboard their fleet of ships and their mobile fortress-homeworld, which has been fashioned from the shard of the crust of a shattered planet broken in ages long past. They are cold, calculating and logical, and don't engage in frivolous activities like small talk or hobbies. Out there, in the Far Reaches, every waking second is spent preparing for the next fight. They often go for hundreds of years without seeing any of the worlds they are protecting in their selfless duty. As a group they care about results only, and spare very little thought for the concepts of honour and glory. One cannot afford to be anything less than utterly pragmatic when help is hundreds, or even thousands, of lightyears away. Terra is very distant indeed, as is the Imperium it represents, and while they are pious and worship the God-Emperor as they are supposed to, one might argue that the reverence they feel for Gorseval borders on heresy.

In fact, the way that Gorseval uses his psychic powers to strengthen the bonds between himself and his Astartes would be seen as heresy, if the Imperium knew about it. He erases the previous identities of his Void Stalkers entirely and imprints them with his Brand, a psychic marker that instills them with some of his own insatiable hunger and creates a weak, but permanent, telepathic connection. How can the Void Stalkers ever turn on their Chapter Master when he lives inside of their heads, and the first thing they remember is him presiding over their awakening?

The Chapter only returns to Imperial space to reconnect with the galaxy-spanning civilization they serve once every 500 years, their records with the Adeptus Administratum lying dormant in the long centuries between their appearances -- to communicate astropathically would be to draw far too much attention to themselves, as each speck of astropath activity in the outer dark blazes like a beacon against the inky blackness of intergalactic space. Many forget they even exist in the meantime, and the Inquisition is usually taken aback by them whenever they return to update the Imperium on their exploits and to donate the required samples of their gene-seed to the Adeptus Mechanicus. But they have avoided too much scrutiny thus far (at least, until recently), mostly by never staying long enough to allow any prying eyes to make it aboard their ships and by never missing one of their bi-millenial ‘appointments’.

Nothing the Void Stalkers do is Codex-standard. They are in their home element when engaging in void warfare, and are specialised in boarding actions and spaceship combat. The Chapter possesses more battleships than almost any other, some of which are as old as the Imperium itself, though much like the ship of Theseus it is hard to say whether any of the original vessels remain. They intercept alien threats that aim to emerge from the gloom to threaten the Imperium before they reach their intended destinations, like a predator hunting in the abyss of the ocean -- mankind’s answer to the horrors that await beyond the stars. When forced to fight a planetary war, the Void Stalkers use dropships and deep strike teleportation technology to strike surgically and without warning. Once down on the ground they specialize in targeting enemy commanders and demoralizing the enemy through terrorist tactics. The Void Stalkers lay ambushes and prefer to fight inside or underground, bunkering down deep inside enemy territory and delivering devastating strikes before vanishing into the shadows. But perhaps most remarkable is their patience: the Void Stalkers can take a hundred years to finish a single war, waiting for years between engagements if needed, shrouded in the shadows between dead worlds until the perfect time to strike has come.

When they do fight, Gorseval oversees the battle directly and uses his considerable psychic powers to predict enemy movements and identify weak positions, though he doesn't lead from the front. Captured enemy commanders are brought before Gorseval for him to break so that he may learn their secrets. If necessary, the Void Stalkers will utilize a primitive alternative to the Exterminatus protocol in the form of sustained orbital bombardment to cleanse a world harboring hostile life. Without the direction of their Chapter Master, Void Stalkers become less effective and tend to err on the side of caution when perhaps they should be pressing an advantage.

Personal Demeanour: Yndrasil is a Void Stalker through and through. Born again through the mutations of the Astartes program and the cleansing Brand of the Dark Star, there is nothing left of the mortal that he once was -- not even memories. As far as Yndrasil knows his life began on the operating table of the Chapter’s apothecaries, lorded over by the haunted visage of Gorseval himself. He has only ever known the Hunt, the Eternal Duty in the Outer Dark, and it has shaped him utterly. Patient, pitiless and precise, Yndrasil is a finely honed weapon, carrying about him the unspoken menace of a sheathed blade at all times. A man of few words and fewer jokes, his waking hours are spent in preparation or prayer in equal measure. Void Stalkers do not feast, they do not boast, and they do not carouse. They are a hive of solitary beings -- to each of them, their relationship with Gorseval, and through him the Emperor, is more important than their relationship to each other. Yndrasil is no different.

Though so reticent and so reserved that one almost can’t avoid considering him aloof, there is an intense awareness and perceptiveness in his eyes that betrays that Yndrasil does not consider himself above his surroundings or his peers -- indeed, he is keenly interested in all that goes on and all that is said, for information is power, and instead one realizes sooner or later that he is simply always ready, always on. The gears in his head are turning whichever way he looks, analysing and processing what he perceives in order to be prepared for anything. This is the hunger that lives within him, courtesy of the Chapter Master’s psychic imprint, which overrules all other impulses: the desire to win. It is a cold, implacable ambition, more akin to a glacier than to a raging fire -- methodical and inexorable.

If there is anything that sets him apart from his brethren, it is perhaps a latent, but untapped, openness to others and their way of thinking, or being. Most Void Stalkers have no greater curiosity about the universe at large, or even about their enemies beyond what they need to know to defeat them, but Yndrasil is given to wondering about the why in ways they are not. But only ever briefly, before the conditioning takes over again. It remains to be seen whether or not this trait will be allowed to develop once Yndrasil is away from his Chapter and, indeed, his Master.

Speciality: Marksmanship and reconnaissance, and he doubled as a ship captain -- like most of the senior officer cadre -- in the Void Stalkers.

Rank: Stalker-Master of the Third Company (The Unseen), Void Master of the Venom-class Destroyer, the Phantom, and member of the Black Guard.

Power Armour History: Not given to sentimentality, the Void Stalkers do not keep records or long honour rolls of the achievements of individual Astartes, and they certainly place no importance on something as mundane as a piece of equipment. The armor that Yndrasil wears is only remarkable in that regard by being old; the Mark VII Aquila suit has been in use for several thousand years, carefully repaired and returned to serviceable condition by the Chapter’s unusually resourceful artificers time and time again. Where the Void Stalkers themselves have not kept tally of who wore it where and when, the armor itself, in its many notches and blemishes, speaks volumes. What is remarkable is what the armor has been and continues to be used for. Part of the Third Company’s armory for centuries, its servos and coils have been fitted with noise-dampening modules to reduce the sound it makes while in motion. This affords the wearer significantly greater stealth than a standard suit of Mark VII Aquila armor.

As for its appearance, purple pigment is hard to come by in the outer rim and the paint job has been slowly flecking off for a few hundred years, in places revealing the gun-metal adamantium beneath. Yndrasil suspects the armor shall enjoy being repainted.

Description: The Void Stalkers are not a particularly physically imposing Chapter and Yndrasil stands a little bit shorter and weighs a little bit less than the average Astartes, courtesy of the poor nourishment that they often endure while prowling between dead worlds. Pale skin and a gaunt face await any who look upon him, with high cheekbones, thin lips and a brow that seems perpetually furrowed. Dark hair is kept short on the sides and a little longer on top, its inky blackness fiercely at odds with the icy blue of his eyes, so bright that they almost appear to glow in the dark -- a rare splash of color in an otherwise gray and pallid visage. Aside from appearing underfed, Yndrasil seems quite youthful, and he has remarkably little scars or deformities for an Astartes of his standing. In the chess match of a void battle or the close confines of a boarding action, there is no room to be wounded: one either escapes unharmed, or one dies. And Yndrasil has not died so far.

He moves with curious restrain, as if he is an automaton merely imitating human mannerisms. In fact, when not strictly necessary, Yndrasil generally doesn’t move at all, and when it is necessary, he moves with blinding speed and precision -- each thrust of his blade is exactly up to the hilt, and no further. When he pulls the trigger on his Stalker-Bolter, recoil barely moves the weapon at all. And for a being of his size, clad in armor as bulky and heavy as it is, he moves in alarming silence.

Skills: As the Stalker-Master of the Third Company, the Unseen, Yndrasil embodies the Chapter’s preference for subtlety and stealth. He is a master at striking from the shadows, waiting until he has obtained the absolute advantage before destroying his foes without giving them a chance to react. He is a crack shot with a rifle and a deadly assassin with his nocticite blade. This is accomplished through the use of a hooded camo-cloak, large enough to hide a whole squadron of regular Guardsmen, that Yndrasil wraps around the torso of his power armor. Combined with his unnatural stillness, it allows him to fade from sight almost entirely. Like in many other ways, the Void Stalkers’ isolation has forced creativity and inventiveness in combat doctrine, and Yndrasil is essentially an example of a Firstborn Vanguard Eliminator Marine, predating the deployment of the Primaris Marines and their tactics by a significant margin.

History: Harvested from a remote Feral World that the the Void Stalkers have used to replenish their ranks since time immemorial, Yndrasil does not remember anything of his life prior to his rebirth as an Astartes in the Emperor’s Service. Gorseval’s Brand made sure of that. There was only the awakening, the training, the assimilation into the collective -- and the Chapter Master and his relentless hunger, ever driving them all onward through the Outer Dark. The Imperium was nothing to Yndrasil but an idea, observed only in reliefs on the walls of the fleet’s prayer rooms and in the words of the tomes he read, and it was not love that he held in his heart that compelled him to fight the enemies of mankind at the edge of their realm. It was only his Master’s indomitable, inscrutable will.

Why the Void Stalkers were consigned to haunt the dark space outside of the light of the Astronomican was a mystery to Yndrasil, but one he did not question. The necessity of the task was self-evident in the multitude of horrors they faced and methodically exterminated over the centuries of his life, and the seemingly endless list of vanquished foes that the Void Stalkers had seen to before he was born. They kept no records of who their most valiant heroes were, but they did meticulously keep note of who -- or, more aptly, what -- they defeated over the millenia. And it was a long list of many long wars.

The one that forged Yndrasil the most and defined him as a warrior was the campaign against the nameless terrors of Styx, a Dead Planet on the furthest fringes of the Ghoul Stars that was once home to one of the most remote human colonies to be founded during the Dark Age of Technology. Records showed that the Great Crusade had never made it to Styx, and none now lived to remember how its civilization had fallen. All that was clear was that the ten-thousand year old ruins of the lightless planet were now home to a vicious breed of xenos -- as tall as an Astartes, musclebound and winged, with claws that could tear through adamantium and a fanged maw that split their face from top to bottom. Scans revealed that the planet possibly contained valuable archeotech so the decision was made to descend to the surface and try to recover it. Things did not go according to plan, of course, and Yndrasil’s strike team was picked off one by one by the beasts until only he remained. Forced to adapt a strict stealth protocol to avoid detection by the monsters’ supernaturally sharp senses, Yndrasil survived alone on the surface of the planet for two weeks, taking down a few of the winged creatures here and there before disappearing back into the shadows. Through the Brand, he could sense that Gorseval was observing him the whole time. Why did he not send help? Was it a test? The Void Stalker fleet merely hung motionless in upper orbit. Until, at last, vox contact was re-established and a shuttle sent to pick him up from the very tip of the highest, half-crumbled spire in the haunted hive city.

Once Yndrasil was back aboard the Phantom, Gorseval gave the order to destroy the planet from orbit. The archeotech wasn’t worth the retrieval effort, as the further preservation of Void Stalker lives was deemed more important. Yndrasil watched the orbital bombardment through the observation window of the med bay while his wounds were treated and his body stocked back up on vital fluids, and he wondered what it had all been for. A few solar days passed before Gorseval summoned him. Only they know what words were passed between them, but Yndrasil emerged as the new Stalker-Master of the Third Company, the Unseen, and a new member of the Black Guard, Gorseval’s inner circle of most trusted lieutenants.

Yndrasil entered the Imperium proper for the first time since his creation as an Astartes while chasing after a Tyranid splinter fleet with the entirety of the Void Stalkers, a rare incident in which Gorseval deemed it necessary to break from their vigil on the outskirts and pursue a threat into the borders of the Imperium itself. A series of poorly defended worlds lay in the Tyranids’ path and the rest of the Imperium’s forces could not be counted on to respond swiftly enough to this breach, especially given the recent events surrounding the Cicatrix Maledictum -- something so distant that the Void Stalkers could only speculate on its meaning. The Tyranid advance was hindered and hamstrung by the Void Stalkers at every opportunity, but they were too few and the splinter fleet too voracious to stop. Its progress wasn’t put to a halt until an Imperial defense force, led by Lord Inquisitor Roxtius from the Ordos Xenos, emerged from within the galaxy to meet the threat head-on. Now caught between the Void Stalkers and this newfound resistance, the splinter fleet finally had to stop and fight for its survival. On the once-pristine surface of the Shrine World Ecthelion, the Void Stalkers fought side by side -- for the first time in millennia -- with other Astartes, including a Chapter of Primaris Marines, and the Tyranid splinter fleet was annihilated for good.

After the fighting was done, communications between Gorseval and Roxtius were established and the two leaders agreed to meet...

Equipment and Armament: Yndrasil is a highly skilled marksman and a specialist with the Stalker-Bolter, and he brings his own customized rifle to the Deathwatch, featuring an elongated barrel and an improved firing mechanism for additional velocity and accuracy. He wears an oversized camo-cloak over his suit of Mark VII Aquila power armor and wields a black blade, forged from glass-like minerals found only in the distant, shattered world that the Void Stalkers crafted their mobile fortress-homeworld from, to take down foes silently from the shadows.

Miscellaneous: Can’t think of anything.