Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by HeySeuss
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Once, they were brothers...

Procedure


  • Please post a character sheet.
  • Characters should be astartes from a Traitor Legion that remain loyal or other elements of the Imperium. That includes Dark Angels, actually.
  • I am amenable to the legions that were shattered at Istvaan III, such as Raven Guard, Iron Hands and Salamanders. Less so Smurfs, Blood Angels, White Scars, Space Wolves and Fists.

Character Sheet


Name:
Age:
Legion:
Planet of Origin:
Physical Description:
It's probably best to actually describe the character if you are going to rely on a picture, or you can do without the picture if you like, but definitely describe.


Skillset:
Characters will have similar training, but not


History:
Explain how your character got there -- no 'the story will come out in RP' lines, please -- I want a feel for where your character is coming from. Were they in a traitor legion, were they in a loyalist legion whose task force was destroyed. How did they survive the betrayal?


Psychological Profile:
An idea of how the character thinks and so forth; should be linked to the history.


Equipment:


Notes:
Note added troops led by this character.
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Name: Prodigal Son
Age: Unknown, but reckoned to be at least a century old.
Legion: Luna Wolves, renounced.
Planet of Origin: Terra or Cthonia.
Physical Description:
Prodigal Son's armor is repaired from battlefield salvage and the paint has been carefully scraped off and the pauldron insignia defaced and painted over with the Raptor Imperialis symbol of the Reunification Wars, a symbol forces loyal to the Emperor fought under on Terra as well as the Imperial Aquila. The armor is not as efficient as a properly-maintained mark, but it gets him into the fight. He's done the best he can with repairs, but the battle damage shows.

With the helmet off, Prodigal Son is unremarkable, but has a gold service stud and a silver service stud on his brow. He does not like to display them often, for they display his features and those tell a tale; as is sometimes the case, the gene-seed expresses strongly, as it does here.

His is the likeness of the Warmaster, the Betrayer Horus. To perhaps further demonstrate where he stands on the matter, he has the Imperial Aquila tattooed onto his cheek. The other is marred with the scars of las-fire and the shrapnel from a melted helmet face-plate, a memento of one of the engagements of the Great Crusade. His head is completely shaven.

When not fighting, when not focusing, he stares off into the distance, his mind visibly churning. He wrestles with himself, with his love of his former brothers. With his shame for his gene-father's betrayal.


Skillset:
Prodigal Son is a tactical marine to the bone; there are few tasks that a Space Marine and his bolter are not suited to, after all. The tools depend on the tactical situation. Some Legions wed themselves to specific styles, but the true essence is to adapt, but adapt ferociously and, above all, win. That was always the way of his legion, as it moved from victory to victory, rarely tasting defeat. His experience in numerous Imperial Compliance actions has honed his capabilities.


History:
Prodigal Son's exact circumstances are not entirely known, mostly because he does not speak -- his oath is of silence, his penance is in deeds. His Primarch's sin cannot be washed away, and he intends to sell his life dearly to the enemies of the Emperor. It is hard to say whether the man is one of the Luna Wolves holdovers of the original intake of Terran recruits or a Cthonian addition that stayed strangely loyal to the Emperor when so many of his own followed the Warmaster, their gene-father, where he would lead.

What is known is that the Rogue Trader picked up Prodigal Son on the planet Polybius; there was ferocious fighting between Imperial Army elements and Chaos Cultists seeded there by the Word Bearers Legion. Prodigal Son did not command, did not rally, did not organize. He and a mere handfull of others from his Legion fought, hunting the leaders, looking to decapitate the cultist command. Those not ended with a bolter round to the head he hacked down ferociously in melee. They stalked the battlefield like ghosts and struck with singular and suicidal ferocity, fury made manifest, to rip out the throat of key enemy personnel, rather than getting heavily engaged in an attrition battle.

In one particular case at the end of the revolt on Polybius, out of ammo for his bolter and out of promethium for his chainsword, he encountered a leader of the Cultists. The Psyker tried to seduce him with the words of a demon that knew all too well what his heritage was. The woman's skull was splattered messily with two rapid blows of his gauntleted fist and a bellow of spiritual pain. It did not go unnoticed, word spread on the planet.

When the Rogue Trader told this silent Astartes the plan, he gave a nod and came aboard along with his other brothers. They speak among themselves at appointed times, much like a religious order, but otherwise remain silent except for battle, when they use the curt language of tactical communication. They eat minimally, they train relentlessly, try to keep their equipment running despite inconsistent supply and do not mingle.


Psychological Profile:
It's hard to say what Prodigal Son thinks, as he does not speak. But his actions are very clear -- he has the same controlled viciousness that made the Sons of Horus one of the most successful of the legions during the Great Crusade. In countless compliance actions, they struck mercilessly. The same applies here. It's his heritage to the bone, even if it is now a traitor's heritage.


Equipment:
  • Phobos-Pattern Boltgun. It has a hook and a tether line that allows it to stay attached and handy when he lets go of the grip. It also has a foregrip if he wishes to stabilize it. That is not Mechanicus-approved modification but he is beyond caring. It allows him to switch quickly over to his chainsword.
  • Thunder Edge Pattern Chainsword, magnetized with a switch so Prodigal Son can release it from harness and bring it to bear moments after releasing his bolter.
  • Armor that is truly the salvaged and repaired parts of other armor. It is, essentially, what will be known as Mk. V "Heresy Pattern" armor. Notably, the knuckles are spiked. The helmet is a modified Mk. IV, there are bits and pieces from other marks and field expedient. Plates are riveted on, repairs are visible. It is not parade-ready, but it can still fight.
  • Grenades when he can get them.


Notes
Prodigal Son has three battle brothers, they are armed very similarly to him; bolters and melee weapons. They too do not speak to outsiders except in battle. Their armor is stripped of heraldry and symbols of loyalty to the Emperor are displayed in place of the Eye of Horus and Cthonian ganger runes that were prevalent in their legion.
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Character Sheet
(Template Here)
Name: Kraeger Antal
Age: 187
Legion: Iron Warriors
Planet of Origin: Olympia
Physical Description:
Kraeger is in every way an Iron Warrior. He has a stern and dollorous countenance. His eyes are a dark accusing grey and he has no hair. His face is thick and menacing with a long sacr running from his chin to his left temple. His left ear is mostly gone, having been lost to a particularly nasty ork and his bald head has several long scars. Wether these were self inflicted or battle wounds is unknown. His Eyebrows are thin and raven black, and he sports no facial hair. Normally he carries a doure expression, free of happiness or hope, only scorn and paranoia. Bags have developed under his eyes after going without sleep for far too long, even for an Astartes Legionaire. His armour, Crusade pattern, still carries his veteran hazard stripes and even the symbol of his legion... though the metallic skull has long since been purposefully defaced, ruined by its owner.

In addition his armour has begun to show sign of hasty and ad-hoc repairs. Magnetic studded plates cover his right pauldron and chest plate and scorch and poc marks have been similarly covered here and there about the armour. In addition, a few more markings on his armour seem to have been defaced in a similar vein to his Legions insignia, though it is unclear what they may have once been. He stands average for a Legionnaire, seven feet and several inches. His right arm is cybernetic, currently it is sheathed in his armour however.


Skillset:
Kraeger was a Veteran, a son of Olympia and survivor of many of the Iron Warriors most vicious sieges. He was there during the decimation declared by Perturabo, helping to beat his brothers to death on the orders of a god; and he endured. He was there when walls were cracked and his brothers fell in droves;he endured. He squatted in trenches and fox holes, dirt and muck and shrapnel sprayed over him as well as blood from Legionnaires in the hole with him; and he endured. His skills are those of Endurance and siege, how to stand and fight longer and harder than anyone else. He and his bolter have stood in trenches and in the breaches of fortresses for over a century, and he has endured. He is most talented with his bolter at medium to close range combat common in a siege as well as trench fighting, fortification building, and the assault of strongholds.


History:
'When first I became an Iron Warrior, when first I saw Great Perturabo he gave us an order... an order of decimation. My friend Alris drew his straw and I helped beat him to death with my own hands. When we were ordered to dig a trench or foxhole, and sit for months without moving we did it. When it came time to burst from our fortifications and charge a gunline I did it without hesitation or a second thought. When a siege broke and we were ordered to slaughter everyone within I was the one to carry it out, the murderer who's hand held the axe. When Great Olympia rebelled and I was ordered to do the same to my home I did not question, I simply did. After I earned my stripes and was told to enter a lodge of equals, to discuss amongst brothers I did so. I never questioned an order, not once did I hesitate or refuse.

... Until Istvaan. I knew my orders, after the bombs I was to join in the obliteration of the stragglers. I agreed, never one to question and down our transport went. It never landed. In the atmosphere we were hit and went down. Only I survived. We had landed in... i-it was a pile of my brothers. I don't know how many, I couldn't count them all. For the first time I disobeyed an order without question. I found those survivors and joined them against my own legio- against my Primarchs orders. I struck the skull from my shoulder, I struck the totems and symbols of the lodge... but could not strike my stripes for they at least were my own. As they descended on us I hopped on the first transport away that I could find... I could never go back now... perhaps that was good.

Eventually, I do not know how long now, I came upon a rouge trader. Someone who said he could help me... I still don't believe him but its something. Maybe I can follow the right orders for once... I don't know anymore. I don't trust anymore... oh well, I suppose woe is me and all that. At least here my 'brothers' and good 'father' aren't here to hunt me... yet at least.


Psychological Profile:
Kraeger is a bit strange for an Iron Warrior, possessed of a dark sourt of humour. Although he is stern and dollorous as they come, he has a strange wit when it comes to dark or black humour, using his and others misery as a source of comedy. Wether he simply enjoys this or its a coping mechanism is uncertain. What is certain is his wish for justice, justice and vengeance. Unfourtanetly, for his part in the slaughter at Istvaan he understands justice may mean his death... and wouldn't that be great for a laugh?


Equipment:
  • Umbra pattern bolter: He has a leather strap he uses to hold it most often when not in use, preffering it to mag locking the bolter to him.
  • Plasma Pistol, Stolen: Taken from an old 'friend' of his, he keeps it in a thermally cooled holster when not in use or on cooldown. The custom weapon is larger than most other plasma pistols and more powerful, but heats up much faster. He has taken to calling it the Biting Remark
  • Mk.2 Crusade Pattern armour(modified): His armour is slowly becoming modified over time due to the need for repairs and maintenance, though it has not yet become what will one day be known as 'Heresy' pattern armour.
  • Entrenching tool: Equivalent to the combat knives of other legions.
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Character Sheet


Name: Ferreus (Gothic for both 'Iron' and 'Immovable')

Age: Around 247

Legion: Unknown - Suspected to be the Death Guard

Planet of Origin: Unknown - Terra or Barbarus

Physical Description:
Standing at an average height of seven feet and three inches, when out of his armour, he has the look of an experienced pugilist and wrestler - not at all strange, considering he is both - his shaven cranium of dark stubble sloping down to an almost Neanderthal brow line, two eyes of stormy grey glaring out from deep-set sockets and brows of black hair as if challenging anyone and everyone.

Continuing from the top, his nose and ears are certainly that of a fighter, the former having clearly been broken a number of times, and the latter both formed into the well known 'cauliflower ears' of the martial man. His thick-set jaw is kept equally as hairless as his head, crossed with faded scars, and nearly as square as the remainder of his body, his torso very much seeming like a solid slab of rock...except made from muscle, bone and sinew; each limb is like the trunk of a tree, stretched psychically as far as the unique physiology of the Astartes will allow them to go, muscles rippling clearly beneath his rather pale skin as he moves and his hands more than able to crush the skull of both mortal man and Space Marine both.

In battle he girds himself in his not-always-reliable suit of Mk III 'Armorum Ferrum' Pattern power armour, the entire construct a walking edifice to brutal frontal assaults and wars of attrition; from the numerous pits left by solid shells and projectiles, to the deeply burnt scorch-marks of more laser based weaponry, Ferreus accepts them all on his re-painted armour of deepest black - however, if one looks close enough, they may be able to see through the murky and well worn layer. Just under the surface of those colours which obscure his true origins, if you look close enough without becoming a target of his ire, one may peak the crimson shoulder plate, gauntlet, knee and stormy coloured ceramite of the obsolete Dusk Raiders.

As a loyalist member of a so-called 'traitor' legion, and as one of the re-minted blackshields, the sturdy armour of this Astartes goes completely unadorned apart from several Imperial Aquila to show where his loyalties lie. On the other hand battle scars are the only decoration that a warrior needs, and he has plenty of them as well.


Skillset:
Oddly enough, Ferreus combines the skill-sets of several differing legions - the stoic attitude and casual aloofness of the Dark Angels, the ferocity and thrill for close-quarters fighting of the Blood Angels and World Eaters, and the immunity to biological substances and extra ordinary constitution of the Death Guard. In hand-to-hand conflict or a close-range fire-fight he is truly to be feared, whether using his weapons or his fists alone, coming at his enemies directly and without hesitation or mercy.

His specialisations include trench warfare and wars of attrition, as well as warfare in harsh or toxic enviroments.


History:
Istvaan III...the Choral City...

The whole sordid affair was where the life of the Astartes known simply as Ferreus had truly began, a rebirth if you will, the final awakening of a once loyal soldier and follower of his Primarch to the depth and breadth of corruption and betrayal which had slithered its way into the heart and soul of the once-beloved Warmaster and his now twisted brethren. It was here that the loyalist, primarily Terran-born elements, of each of the legions was to be purged from existence by their own former comrades - thereby destroying any inner revolts, and showing the utter loyalty and commitment to the cause of the traitors. Loyalty to the Warmaster and their Primarchs over the Emperor, and commitment to the cause of placing this maniacal pawn of Chaos at the head of the burgeoning Empire of Man.

Well, needless to say he believed he was dead; rising stiff and alone on the dead surface of a dead planet, digging his way through fallen rubble that had buried him for over three weeks before finally reaching the surface once more, wary to the point of paranoia and mistrustful of any other he came across whether purported loyalist or one of his blood-enemies of his former legion and their allies.

While not Istvaan III itself, each and every one of the loyalist combatants massacred on that damned planet as far as he knew, Ferreus had been forced to turn his gun on at least half of his own company to save his own skin. It had been on a planet called Leandros IV, he and his company - for he had achieved the rank of Lieutenant, before being placed down to Sergeant for an unspecified infraction, and was trusted to complete his tasks with efficiency - that formerly jovial and friendly brothers-in-arms had turned their weapons upon he and his own in just another attempt to thin out the ranks of those more loyal to their Emperor than to their Primarch and his cause.

After fighting his way through his 'brothers', leaving those he could not protect to the tender mercies of the enemy, he fled into the thick undergrowth and forcefully boarded the Thunderhawk which had been used to land upon the planet, urging the pilot at gunpoint to take him up and away from there even as he began to scrape the paint and insignia of his legion from his ceramite.

Upon learning the full extent of the atrocity on Istvaan III, and with every intention to do his utmost to bring the Emperor's wrath to those he now saw as nothing more than prey, Ferreus painted his armour black and marked himself with several hand-painted aquila to show where his loyalties lay to any that would see.

Between then and his meeting with the Rogue Trader Balixus Kyros, a meeting that would turn out to give him a goal for his efforts and a chance at seeing justice meted out in full, he took part in numerous guerilla actions against traitor formations - it was in once such action that he claimed his chainaxe, plucking it from the still twitching fingers of a World Eaters officer and spitting upon the corpse as he did so. Sieges, ambushes, and frontal assaults, he took part in any and every action that he could if it would damage those that he had once counted as allies and peers.

Such things take a toll even on a superhuman warrior, and the respite now given to him after being picked up and bought to relative 'safety' aboard Balixus' vessel is a blessed relief...and yet there is always the tugging at the back of his mind, the primal need to pile death upon those who wronged him, and perhaps he is once more let loose against the traitor Horus and his cronies there will be no more peace for him. Only war.


Psychological Profile:
Ferreus is almost as dour as they come; although his demeanour is rather without emotion, fatalistic, and black, there are plenty who have seen this as a sign that he must therefore be mentally slower to boot! This, as those many have found, is certainly not the case and Ferreus is actually in possession of a rather keen, logical, and cunning intellect that has allowed him to foresee many things that others cannot both on and off of the field of battle. When the bullets and dirt starts flying is when he truly comes alive, amidst the cries and screams of his enemies, fighting alongside his brothers and in the name of his Emperor - who he still considers his true liege - and in the rarest of circumstances he has even been known to sneer, which is as close to a smile as he can get.


Equipment:
  • Phobos-pattern Bolter with attached combat blade.
  • Ikanos-pattern Bolt Pistol
  • Chainaxe - taken from a World Eater
  • Standard issue gladius (the blade coated in various poisons to which Ferreus is immune)


Notes: Accompanied by four Astartes armed in a similar manner, with a bolter, close-quarters weapon and sometimes a sidearm;

- Sergeant Gentian
- Apothecary LÅ‘rinc
- Brother Kazimir
- Brother Tihomir (is the squads designated heavy weapon expert, carries a Multi-Melta)
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Name: Lyras

Age: 245

Legion: Emperor's Children

Planet of Origin: Chemos

Physical Description:

While one of the older legionaries in the Emperor's Children, Lyras, like other Astartes in the III Legion, shows little sign of age or wear. His features are sharp and his angular face is framed by long silver hair in the manner of his primarch, Fulgrim. Despite a few small nicks and minor scars his face is otherwise unworn by battle damage. Much like the rest of his legion, his appearance is characteristically as close to perfect as can be achieved by anyone less than a primarch, or the Emperor himself.

His armour is somewhat less perfect and preserved in its appearance. Once vibrantly purple and gilded with gold ornamentation, it is now blackened by scorch marks and caked with blood and earth, scratched, and in some places, chipped. His crimson cloak is tattered towards the bottom and blackened with the viscera of war.


Skillset:

As with the majority of Emperor's Children legionaries, Lyras is exceptionally skilled in swordsmanship. While devoted to the perfection of all forms of warfare, this particular legionary values close combat, duels and assaults over other courses of action.


History:

Raised on Chemos, Lyras' childhood was strewn with competition and the need to perfect whatever activity he took part in. One such sport which Lyras sought to perfect in his early years was that of swordsmanship. Starting with sticks and metal bars, he eventually found himself competing in small, though increasingly larger, bouts with recreational swords. Frequent victories, both in official duels and in back alley brawls, lead to Lyras acquiring an unashamed sense of pride and accomplishment which would serve to drive him in later years. While not necessarily impressing, but perhaps simply catching the eye of an Astartes on Chemos while duelling during a large gathering for a recruitment drive, Lyras was sponsored for the initial trials of the III Legion, the Emperor's Children, who at this stage were still suffering the effects of the virus, known as 'the Blight' on Terra which had reduced the numbers of the III Legion to critical levels.

As an Astartes of the III Legion, Lyras fully committed himself to the mastery and perfection of warfare. As a child he had been driven by competition, but as one of the Emperor's chosen he was wholly consumed by a desire to outmatch any he came across as he partook in the Great Crusade. Aligned with his early life, Lyras devoted himself to the art of sword fighting, now having access to unimaginably powerful and elegant weapons. As the Emperor's Children and their fleet accompanied that of the Luna Wolves in the Crusade, Lyras took part in numerous compliance measures. Some were insufferably peaceful and cooperative, and other worlds provided him with the means to test his swordsmanship. After decades of compliance wars against uncooperative human planets, extinction of xenos races, the slaying of enemy combatants and efficient leadership of his men, Lyras was gradually granted captaincy of one of the chapter companies, a rank at which he stayed until the events of Istvan III.

Having exterminated the Laer during their compliance, fought the Megarachnids on On-Forty-Twenty, the planet to become known as Murder, to assist the Blood Angels, Lyras fought with the expeditionary forces of the Emperor's Children against the most vile enemies of the Emperor of the time. It was the same devotion to the Emperor that would find him planetside on Istvan III, hand picked by Fulgrim and Horus, along with thousands of others from several different legions, to oversee the compliance of the former imperial world. The betrayal he witnessed hours into that war tore him to his foundations. The men he had fought alongside against the enemies of the Emperor now declared Him an enemy and his own primarch, the god-like being who he so looked alike, as did many of the III Legion, and who he had bled with, had sentenced him and thousands like him to death by virus bombing.

Hundreds of rebels fell to his sword and bolter in the streets of Chorral City, and in the overcrowded, dark caverns beneath during the ensuing war against the planetside traitor elements of the fleets in high anchor above the planet. Thousands fell to his company, who had all been consigned to oblivion alongside him. A small number of his men fell to the rebels, with the majority of them dying in battle against traitors of the World Eaters, Emperor's Children and Death Guard legions. Innumerable men fell to him in close combat, including sergeants and line commanders of the traitor forces who found themselves locked in sword duels with Lyras and felt the full force of his rage. He briefly locked swords with Captain Lucius of the 13th Company when it was revealed that he was among the enemy forces, though was unable to see the duel come to fruition as he was lead away to a small starcraft in the urban jungle of the capital city, kept safe from the maelstrom of war in a covered hangar, capable of taking what few dozen or so of his company still lived after months of warfare. Sheer luck, and the size of the craft, allowed Lyras to narrowly escape Istvan III, though he soon found himself upon a planet sympathetic to Horus' cause, and it was there that began continuing his compliance of worlds, gradually losing his men while spreading the wrath of the Emperor to those who had turned against him.


Psychological Profile:

Lyras displays the Emperor's Childrens' typical obsession with perfection, and devotion to the Emperor. The events of Istvan III have in no way dissuaded him from this mindset and he considers himself to remain one of the few true Emperor's Children, refusing to accept that those who turned traitor belong to the same legion as he. The events of the betrayal destabilised what was once a calm and calculated countenance, and Lyras periodically finds himself overcome with animal rage in combat, not dissimilar to that of the former War Hounds legion. This rage often exhibits himself when he remembers the faces of those he had once called friends and brothers and how they were now cavorting with enemies of the Emperor. The mere mention of his primarch is an almost surefire way to trigger fatalistic wrath. While almost alone, with few loyalists remaining from the III Legion, he vows to continue the Great Crusade, and to partake further in the compliance of worlds.


Equipment:


  • Mk II Crusade Pattern power armour
  • Power Sword
  • Phobos pattern boltgun & sling
  • Ikanos pattern boltpistol & holster
  • Frag grenades
  • Combat knife


Notes: Accompanied by Sergeant Alypius. A veteran marine from Lyras' company who had survived the events of Istvan III. Armed with a flamer, bolt pistol and combat blade.
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Name: Merdem Jercul

Age: 452

Legion: Raven guard

Planet of Origin: Olympia

Physical Description: More red on both
Terminator armor
Like this but faded raven colors and various spikes potruding from his back
power Armor(with terminus crux)

Skillset:
He is a expeirenced fighter, normally prefers close quarters, but has weapons for ranged as well. He is a veteran and has seen many battles.

History:
Merdem is loyal through and through. He has proven himself many times over and constantly leaves a trail of bodies in his wake. When the heretics started their "crusade", he immediatly left his legion, but they stopped him from leaving. He tried to leave because he thought they were protecting people, not killing them in order to be spiteful. He Does like a good blood bath, but not of human blood unless it is required. He eventually, after killing a good chunk of his brothers, fled in search of a way back to the emporor's favor, away from the taint. He met the trader, who refused to let him on unless he was payed, which the trader didn't get his way, and now knows his mission. Espessially after he heard about the battle he lost his chapter to, which made him all the more wanting of his mission's completion.

Psychological Profile:
Although he was set for the gene seed and whatnot, he is not a very stable person. All he wants is to see blood and serve his emporor, and nothing more.

Equipment:
He has access to the most destructive weapons of the marines, but prefers to use either a heavy flamer or shock claws whch he can't use but will make do with a heavy bolter. His armor is regular veteran power armor, because he couldn't access his terminator armor. his armor is slightly different from other ravens, for it has more red on it than normal Ravens. He also has a thunder hammer, but it is almost depleted of the thunder part.

Notes:
He goes into a blood frenzy when someone succsesfuly strikes him, but if he is hit too much, he will flee and be more stratigic than just killing.
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Name: Sergeant Kurak
Age: 153
Legion: World Eaters, renounced
Planet of Origin: Terra
Physical Description: Short for an Astartes (6'4) but squat and powerfully built. Black, scruffy unkempt hair and scraggly black beard. A patchwork of old superficial fragmentation scars dot his face and upper body. Wears a brand new set of Mk5 Heresy Armour, gifted by his Captain due to his battle exploits. The pauldrons have been carefully repainted black to cover any old Legion affiliations, but the remainder of his armour is the old white of the World Eaters. The armour is notched with tallied kill-counts all over the pauldrons, arms and upper body, giving it a far more worn look than a suit that new has any right to be. There are a lot of notches.

Kurak looks very angry most of the time, except when at rest when he simply looks annoyed.

Skillset:

Kurak has become highly proficient in the role of heavy assault, leading his squad through the heaviest enemy fire into the thickest of the fighting. Time and time again he has emerged from the hell-storm of battle, sporting more war wounds but even more notches on his battle armour. He relies on his hard won close quarters skill and pure aggression to see him through the worst fights, hacking and ripping apart the enemy in a shower of blood and limbs. Kurak prefers a straight fight and could never master the use of the Jump Packs, instead relying on his great speed over short distances to close the gap with his foes. Kurak is the first to admit he is not the smartest man, having no real grasp for anything but the most basic of armour maintenance and tech systems, but has a top tier understanding of squad based tactics, honed through countless battles. Kurak is also not a great shot (for an Astartes), relying on his ability to get close to the enemy for his signature point blank head shots. His skill at close combat is almost matchless however, and his great feats of strength had become a minor legend in his Company.

History:

Kurak was recruited from Terra at an early age, some time into the formation of the World Eaters. Prior to joining he was a simple street thug with aspirations for something greater than beating drunks, and was the first in line for that year's Astartes recruitment. He excelled through his training, his physical strength and pure aggression outweighing his intellectual deficiencies. He passed the harrowing recruitment with only a few fellow youngsters, and soon enough was fighting side by side with the more experienced Astartes. Kurak garnered a reputation for being almost un-killable in his first few decades, twice coming out of deadly encounters as the sole survivor of his squad, and many other times emerging from blast craters, enemy held bunkers and rad-zones with a few more scars and more kill trophies than one so young should have.

After only 30 years Kurak was given command of his own squad, leading several older and more experienced Astartes. Any doubts on his capabilities by his squad were soon resolved when it became clear he valued the lives of his men over almost everything else, leading them into the most dangerous war-zones but taking care to ensure most of them got back out again. Any further advancement was denied to Kurak however, as his general lack of grand strategic thinking or technological expertise precluded him from orchestrating large scale engagements. This was fine by Kurak, who was perfectly at home leading small squads in close combat situations, his reactions and Superior perception skills suited to ably ordering his men into better firing positions and advantageous flanking maneuvers. This is where he stayed throughout the great crusade, fighting loyally for the world eaters year after year in the name of the Emperor.

Kurak refused to accept the 'Butchers Nails' implant that so many of his Legion readily accepted, concerned it would cloud his highly trained reflexes and combat awareness. This was the reasoning he gave his Captain at least, and he and some of his men were allowed to pass on the 'great opportunity'. In truth, he was becoming concerned with the increasingly brutal ways of his Legion and this latest step was one too far into the realms of blood drunk anarchy he felt. He had always seen his own brutality and matchless aggression as a tool to be used in the service of the Emperor, and despite how much he enjoyed hacking apart his enemies he always instinctively knew that he was a monster and should not revel in the fact. Many times he had been ordered to put to the sword civilians, men, women and children in the name of the Emperor, and he had never hesitated, believing that these clearly evil acts would somehow serve the greater good of the Empire and ensure its survival for generations to come. He had begun to suspect that his increasingly frequent orders to exterminate towns and villages were more out of unbridled bloodlust on behalf of his betters and not for any grand tactical scheme, though he often quieted his doubts as he knew he did not have the mental grasp of such grand ideas.

Several weeks before the great betrayal, Kurak and his squad were sent on an individual tasking to assist a nearby imperial army division in the quelling of a rebellious human element on the small mining moon of Junip VII. The army division was already on site several hours before Kurak and his 19 men, and had already surrounded the gigantic mining complex and were slowly moving in. Kurak had expected to be present to offer the threat of extermination while the army rooted out the ringleaders and dealt with them, but these thoughts were quickly dispelled when the army began mercilessly slaughtering all present, even the miner's families. Kurak reluctantly ordered his men to assist, and within a few hours no original inhabitants of Junip VII drew breath. Too late he saw his mistake, witnessing the army division piling the civilian corpses up into giant pyres, decapitating and flensing the flesh from the skulls of the miners and piling them in great piles, whilst screaming prayers to a profane being. Even more shocking was that nearly half of his own men had joined the soldiers in the great debauched affair, drinking the blood of the fallen and feasting on their innards in great abandon. Stunned to inactivity, Kurak and his loyal men only responded when the Army colonel approached Kurak with a bowl of warm blood as an offering, fully expecting the Astartes to partake in the profane rituals.

Kurak opened fire on the soldiers, cutting them down in great swathes. Even when the few men who had shown their true colours began firing on him and his loyal men, he hesitated shooting them down too. In 10 minutes the fight was over, only Kurak and two of his men emerging alive. In the battle, their drop-ship had been irreparably damaged, effectively stranding them on the dead moon among the bodies of their former comrades. All they could do was listen for the next few weeks in quiet desperation to their ship's still working Vox network at snippets of local comms traffic hinting at the great betrayal unfolding across the galaxy on a far greater scale than they had just witnessed...

Psychological Profile:

Kurak is a psychopath and knows he is. He has always had a handle on it, mostly through his loyalty to the Emperor and the focus it gave him. It allowed him to function as the half deranged killing machine he always knew he was, but with a solid knowledge that everything he did was for a greater purpose, even when slaughtering innocent people and enjoying it too. He is not a completely deranged killer however, as his condition is not so severe to stop him from being a highly effective and instinctive squad commander. Kurak has little patience for abstracted strategic plans or deep tactical thinking however, mostly in part to his mental condition, but prefers to act in the moment and make the best decisions whilst in the thick of it, which he invariably does.

He has a deep affection for his remaining men who have stuck with him through this trying time, and would do about anything to ensure they survived. He sees in them two men who have more chance of doing good for the Emperor than he ever could in the long run. He knows he is a Monster, and Monsters are needed to fight the creatures hell bent on destroying his beloved Empire. He knows there is little place for him in the Galaxy when the great work is done, and the injustices are set right.

Equipment:
Phobos pattern bolt pistol with bulky drum magazine and curved bayonet on the fore. (right hip)
Phobos pattern Bolter with drum magazine (mag-clipped to right side of backpack)
Power sword with paired large combat knife. (left hip)
2 frag and 2 krak grenades (small of back)
Magnetic clip webbing incorporating 6 drum magazines (chest and front belt)
1 Satchel Charge (right leg)

Notes

Has two surviving battle brothers with similar armament to Kurak but chain swords in stead of power sword.
- Jonas: Young marine 10 years into his service. Calm and capable, technologically savvy.
- Rivacheg: Veteran of twice as many battles as Kurak. Laconic and sarcastic, hard bitten.
Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Apollosarcher
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Apollosarcher Knight with the Rowan Shield

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Character Sheet


Name: Ywain the Last
Age: 164
Legion: Dark Angels
Planet of Origin: Caliban
Physical 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. His armor mark III power armour is worn from his time fighting to suppress the Gordian league alongside his brothers.

Skillset: A knight of Caliban and more importantly a warrior of the Lion's six great wings, before he could ride he first had to power his skill with a blade and bolt gun. Among the Lion's troops a great diversity of skills is found, yet each is narrowed to field where they excel. For him it was with the more specialized calvary of Dark Angels. With his new place among his brothers the younger Caliban born marine learned by practice duels with his brothers. His control and mastery of a chain sword is nothing to scoff at nor is his ability to bravely operate the dangerous plasma rifle.

History: Ywain had heard the rumors from his brothers, the first legion had been far from the fighting when the Heresy began. However order came down quickly to quell the rumors, they had a campaign to win against the Xenos scum and human allies. Yet twenty members of the Ravenwing were called back, they were to be given a special mission. To return to Caliban and inform Luther of the treachery and to order him to hold back his forces securing the sector and prepare to defend Caliban from the Traitor Legions, until the Lion could return and regroup his forces.

Thrilled to be given a chance to return home and the trust of his Primarch to complete such a mission. Under a few of his more veteran brothers they were given a small ship and sent to deliver a message to the Lion's second. However they never reached the lush forest world, they picked a distress call from a world as they passed by it, a message from the Night Lords requesting aid. Freezing there mission believing loyal brothers needed aid, the always stead fast Dark Angel's prepared their bikes and chain swords.

The lie brought the vessel above the planet, the marines airdropped on their bikes rushing towards the outpost weapons drawn. Then heavy bolter fire from the base began striking down the front row bikes, as unsuspecting angels slammed into the wreckage of bikes, the Night Lords ambush group descended upon them. Unrelenting and cruel they did kill the marine, instead ripping them into pieces, Ywain turned his away from the base as the screams of his captain pierce the jungle of the planet.

They tried to send message yet it was to late, the Night Lords had attacked the ship once the marines were away and seized the vessel. Content with trapping the survivors upon the planet with not even the corpses of their comrades to bury they waited. Eventually entering the outpost they found the place had been how to a small human outpost team who had attempted to warn other of the traitors and paid with lives for loyalty. As time went on they discovered the planet held Beasts akin to those that once roamed Caliban.

They were driven by the sense of dread and hate these Angels now held for planet and the Night Lords yet the smell of blood and corpses also brought them close. They salvaged what they could bolter rounds, a lone heavy bolter, and a handful of chain swords. Ywain took up a plasma rifle he'd straped to his bike as they began the siege, yet when the deed was done only Ywain left standing. The bikes they had ruined. Only a bolt pistol, one of the bolt guns pried off his bike and a chain sword remained.

Using parts and after weeks of hard work he finally managed to get the beacon working again, now he sat alone waiting for death or his chance to hunt those who claimed his brothers.

Psychological Profile: Ywain is knight of Caliban as much as he is a Space Marine, he holds himself and his brothers to the code of the Order and to the laws of the Imperium. He loves his home world and adores the fact he was chosen to be a hero bringing peace to the galaxy. Currently however his mindset is one of pain and betrayal, forgetting his mission to deliver a message, Ywain wants blood and the head of the Night Lords who destroyed his brothers before his very eyes and left them to die at the hands of Chaos spawn. Yet he also see's this as a blessing, since the Lion purged Caliban of Beasts he has now proven himself worthy of being a night of the Order as well as a Dark Angel.

Equipment:

  • Tigrus Pattern Bolter
  • Phobos Pattern Bolt pistol
  • Thunder Edge Pattern Chainsword


Notes: Is very lonely and full of rage, feeling he can't trust any other Legionaire's until loyalty is proven.
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Bright_Ops The Insane Scholar

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