DrRtron

Blades of the Blood Coast

Should be able to get at least an outline up today

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Primarch

Name: Kaldun, the Golden Conqueror

Gender: Male

Homeworld: Baalros

Baalros is a Feral Death planet located on the far reaches of imperial space and is mostly mountainous terrain with frozen valleys in between the peaks, filled with mutated monsters. Nearly all of the 15 million strong population lives in fortress cities atop these mountains, safe from the highly aggressive and mutated nightmares below. These cities are built around ancient gravity wells, keeping the oppressive and crushing natural gravity of Baalros at bay. Once, before the rise of Primarch Kaldun, hordes of Feral Ogryn roamed the frozen plains and would attack the fortresses fairly regularly. Now, nearly all of the Ogryn that exist on Baalros are tamed, and completely loyal to Kaldun and the Imperium.

It had always been a haven for those who wanted to escape the galaxy’s notice, and where the powerful would send their criminals or other undesirables. This was no exception when the Age of Strife began, and psykers either fled the persecution they faced on their own planets and throughout human space, or were sent there by the more merciful planetary rulers, to hide their shame.

When warp storms devastated the surrounding system, Baalros barely survived. It’s already harsh frozen lands were aggressively mutated by the storms, turning what were once merely inhospitable lands into hellscapes of mutants and monsters. The people fled to the mountains, building fortresses around the gravity wells ( that allowed the wardens of the prisoners to survive on the high gravity planet) to fight off the nightmares below. In the inevitable power struggles that followed, psykers would rise to be the ruling class. Of those, the only ones that survived were the ones who learned how to defend themselves from possession and master their powers.. They and their chosen followers established small kingdoms in the mountains, and would war with each other over resources and control within the gravity wells. By the time the warp storms had ended, Baalros had regressed back to the iron age with the Psyker King’s bloodlines still ruling with an iron fist and battling with each other for dominance. The reasoning for the teachings the Psyker King’s passed down to each other from generation to generation was forgotten, but never stopped, protecting them from the predators of the Warp even if they no longer even knew of the Warp.

Appearance: Kaldun stands at 12 feet tall, with golden hair, fair skin, and piercing golden eyes that are often shining with light. His most common attire is power armor that is similar to that of his Legion, shining gold with a black trim, the golden spear wreathed in flame that marks the heraldry of the Legion emblazoned on his chest. It was designed by his sister Eiosha, and is highly prized by him.

On the rare occasion he is not in armor, Kaldun wears Astartes robes and a body glove.

Wargear:

The Thunder of Labrys: A force spear of unparalleled quality and power. The Thunder of Labrys was one of the creations of the Sixteenth Primarch, Eiohsa, for her brother Kaldun. Though the spear is normally rather short, it is capable of elongating into a fearsome weapon of great length or anything in between depending on Kaldun’s wishes. The spear has been psychically attuned to Kaldun specifically, and any other user will struggle to manifest even a fraction of what the Golden Conquerer can accomplish with it. Capable of effortlessly sheering through seemingly any armor when powered by the enormous psychic might of its wielder, or projecting powerful arcs of warp lightning through the air to incinerate whatever foes dare stand before him, the spear is a formidable weapon with few equals. Capable of being thrown as desired and returning to his hands at his call, the spear additionally incorporates a teleportation beacon as a failsafe - or as an emergency means of escape from a dire situation. The spear is of a brilliant golden make and inlaid with fantastical depictions of scenes from Kaldun’s unification of his homeworld of Baalros, the spaces in between filled with elegant runes and designs likewise from Baalros so that one scene flows naturally into the next.

The Nemean Aegis: Kaldun’s armor is a masterwork of sublime artifice nearly without equal. Hand crafted by his sister Eiohsa during their time upon Terra, Kaldun’s armor is a brilliant golden symbol of the Imperium’s might. Inlaid with elegant golden patterns from his homeworld of Baalros, the armor is unlike anything used by the Sixteenth Legion itself, having been entirely custom built from the ground up to suit its intended wearer. Though it could perhaps be described as a suit of Artificer Armor, the Nemean Aegis is of such masterful craftsmanship and remarkable strength and capability that it is only rivalled by the personal armors of other Primarchs. The armor has incorporated into its make powerful lightning claws to tear asunder any foe within reach should Kaldun find himself temporarily without his spear. It has two archeotech lightning guns of immense power within its arms, recreated and improved upon by Eiohsa herself - should Kaldun be unable to eliminate his foe at range with his own formidable psychic powers, the potent blasts of energy are able to reduce to charred ashes nearly any foe or overload machines struck by it. The armor additionally incorporates a teleportation beacon much like his spear, powerful speakers able to broadcast his calls to action to all that surround him, and more.

Personality: Arrogant, self-righteous, proud, rowdy, and possessing a temper that is both quick to ignite and terrible to behold, Kaldun is akin to a force of nature. Weakness and self-doubt were the traits of the dead in Baalros, and it is a lesson that Kaldun keeps with him at all times, especially as a leader in the Great Crusade. There is no place in the Emperor’s plan for doubt, and any weakness must be crushed if Kaldun’s father’s plan is to be realized. He possesses little patience for the careful planning and plotting of some of his brothers or sisters, instead preferring to rush forward and claim his destiny, and the destiny of mankind. He is not rash, having learned his lesson from his father’s death, but he does not plan out his every move.

After bringing his savage homeworld under his control and taming as much of it as possible, Kaldun has an unshakeable faith in himself and his path. If he has made a choice, he is certain it is the right one and there is nearly nothing that can dissuade him from it. While proud, Kaldun isn’t resistant to change. This is most readily apparent in his approach to psychic abilities, technology, and tactics of his enemies, even xenos. If it is a technique he can learn, a technology his legion can benefit from, or tactics he can put to use, he will do so.

He takes a savage joy in all aspects of life, from the sorrows of defeat to the elations of victory.

Kaldun is not suited for the more patient or delicate tasks. He is not the one who plans out great strategies, the logistics of war, or organizing a planet after it has been conquered. Kaldun chafes under what he views as the shackles of running an empire. He is a conqueror, not an administrator and leaves the intricacies to those far more suited than he is.

Skills:

Conqueror: Kaldun is a master of battle. While this is true of all other Primarchs, Kaldun takes it to an obsessive level. At the expense of nearly all other skills, Kaldun has dedicated himself to the art of battle.

Kaldun in particular has dedicated himself to combat in all its forms, and is a force of nature on the battlefield. He is at his best with the enemy before him and a weapon in his hand, leading the charge or dueling his opponent. While not as fast as his sister Nelchitl or as brutally powerful as his brother Sarghaul he is one of the most dangerous Primarchs to face in combat.

This obsession has cost him in all other areas Primarchs are skilled in. He cannot inspire his men through words like his brother Micholi, organize a planet after conquest like his sister Eiosha, manipulate politics like his sister Sekhmetara, or be an impartial arbitrator like his sister Daena. He plans only as far as his next conquest. He has no patience for the years and decades of ruling afterwards.

Kaldun is a Conqueror, and he lives for the conquest.

Psyker King: Kaldun is one of the most powerful Psykers in the Imperium, capable of both skills of impeccable finesse and terrifying raw power, and he doesn't shy away from using his powers. He was taught by his mortal father in Baalros that his powers are meant to be used to their fullest ability to establish his control and protect those under his charge, and Kaldun keeps those teachings with him. As such, Kaldun views his powers as a tool more than anything else, a weapon to be used against the Imperium's foes. He wields them as another weapon in his arsenal. A very powerful one, certainly, but nothing more than another tool of war. It matters little where these powers come from, so long as they function. This mentality, pressed upon him by Baalros and its focus on function and survival, has led him to mostly ignore the Warp. While he is aware of its existence and knows that it is where he draws his powers from, Kaldun spends little to no time actually looking into it the little bit that he can. So long as it keeps fueling his powers, he cares little for what it is and how it works.

Aura of Glory: Part of what makes Kaldun so dangerous in combat is that the absolute confidence he has in his own victory combined with his immense psychic powers has led to a large psychic aura emanating from him at all times. Those who fight with him that are in the aura feel their fears washed away, find themselves capable of going beyond what they thought their limits were, and find that they are more resistant to all forms of damage. Kaldun’s men fight harder, longer, and more fiercely while in his aura.

At the center of this Aura, Kaldun himself is impervious to an immense amount of damage. Be it psychic, environmental, or physical, the aura stops most forms of harm from even reaching Kaldun’s form. So powerful is his confidence that he will win that it takes an enormous amount of effort to harm him.

Unbeknownst to Kaldun and his allies, there is a significant drawback to this power. Should Kaldun’s confidence waver (such as if his men are dying around him, he is actually harmed and cannot respond, a tactical blunder on his part putting himself and his men into a bad position, or his own attacks being shrugged off) the aura shrinks. Weapons and attacks that normally would be stopped begin to actually hit Kaldun and, should his confidence go low enough, begin to harm him.

If Kaldun’s confidence were to ever give into despair, the aura turns on himself and his allies. Where previously attacks would either do less harm or none at all, they begin doing more harm than they should. Fear and despair enters the hearts of himself and his men, and they feel the strength sapped from their limbs.

For now, Kaldun remains unaware of this threat. No weapon can harm him, and his sons are blessed with more of his protection. It will undoubtedly shake him to his core should he discover that his gift can turn on him.

To expand on his Aura of Glory, it doesn't mean that Kaldun is impervious to damage, it means that it takes much more to damage him initially, and that as you continue damaging him it'll be more and more effective. He's not gonna be able to take a hit from another Primarch (or something similarly powerful) or an artillery strike and come out unharmed, but the initial damage won't be as much as it should've been. As it continues, the damage will get more and more effective until it's more effective than it should be.

Assignment Grade: Alpha.

Kaldun has mastered all the known Imperial Disciplines with ease, instinctively picking up the skills as he was taught them (though, it should be noted that his definition of mastering divination is to study the skill long enough that he can lightly reach into the future in battle giving him supernatural instincts and reactions to attacks) and has a myriad of other powers that aren't defined to the Imperial Disciplines. An immensely powerful Psyker Kaldun is one of the strongest Psychics in the entirety of the Imperium.

Biography: When Kaldun crashed through his mortal father’s wall King Calan took this as a sign from the gods. The King had been praying for an heir, as he and his wife had been unsuccessfully trying for years, and then Kaldun appeared. A child with golden locks, wrapped in a strange shell. Calan claimed the child as his own, and began raising him as the next ruler of Shandar, the fortress city and what territory surrounded it. In six months Kaldun was as large as the tallest of teenagers. In a year, he was taller than all the warriors in Shandar. He had already surpassed the warriors in terms of physical strength and combat skill, showing a natural affinity for the art of war, and was rapidly beginning to exceed his father in terms of psychic power and skill. Another year passed and Kaldun gained more and more power and experience as he was taught the art of war by hunting the feral Ogryn and culling their numbers around Shandar. He was ready and raring for actual war, to test his might against foes who weren’t simply wild beasts. Soon, Kaldun got his wish and war reached Shandar. The fortress city’s most valuable mine had been seized by a rival, and Calan refused to let such a brazen act go unanswered; he sent a war party to the mine, with Kaldun in its ranks.

They found the rival’s forces dug in, and descended upon them like the wrath of the heavens. Kaldun was a force of nature, roaring with laughter and savage glee as he tore through the enemy with blade and magic. They were destroyed within moments, and the mine reclaimed. Kaldun was more at home in battle than he had ever been in his father’s halls, and he was eager to return to it. His father declared war on the rival city, and Kaldun once more marched to war. Over the next few years he would engage in and lead his father’s forces to victory, fighting viciously in the mountains that were their homes. They pushed the enemy back to their own city, until the rival city sued for peace. Calan, despite Kaldun’s protestations, accepted the delegation into Shandar.

Things were going well, with terms for peace that were exceedingly favorable being drawn up by Kaldun’s father, until one of the warriors defending the diplomat made a snide remark. Already balking at the idea of anything less than total victory, Kaldun leapt at the excuse for a fight and attacked. In the ensuing brawl, Kaldun's father was slain. The diplomat and his guards were dead, and peace was no longer an option.

Ascending to the throne of Shandar the very next day, Kaldun would never forgive himself for failing to protect his father. His actions, of course, had been right. But he had acted too rashly, and it had cost him. He would control his actions better, hone them to a fine point. Neither did he forgive Shandar’s rival for starting the war in the first place. It was there that he focused the bulk of his rage upon, and the bulk of the rage of his people. Within a week, he had rallied his armies and marched to the rival city, demanding their surrender in return for mercy. Predictably, they refused. Kaldun and his army got their wish. After six months of brutal fighting, they cracked the city’s walls and conquered its populace. The leaders were executed, the citizens subjugated. Exulting in his victory, and gazing out from the walls Kaldun turned his thoughts to the rest of Baalros. It was a fractured world, filled with cities that fought each other as much as they fought the planet itself, weakening one another further and further. A world that needed to unite, that he needed to unite.

Unfortunately, as he gazed upon his weary troops and his newly conquered subjects, he realized that he would need better soldiers. As willing and brave as his troops were, they needed more rest and there were some who still wondered if he should lead them after indirectly causing his father’s death. Doubtlessly as well there would be braver people he conquered, who would refuse to fight for him. No, he needed powerful soldiers, who would be able to fight tirelessly and loyally. Who would not question.

Kaldun’s eyes were drawn to movement in the distance. A lone feral Ogryn, investigating the noise of celebration. An idea blossomed in Kaldun’s mind, and he smiled. Ogryn could learn, he had seen that much himself. They could be tamed, even if it was only through respecting power. They were seemingly tireless, and utterly loyal to whatever passed as a leader of their chief. They would be perfect.

His advisers called him mad. His warriors rankled at the idea of fighting beside the monsters they had culled for so long. But, as in all things, Kaldun had set his mind upon something and they could do nothing before his will. He would train an army of Ogryn to fight for him, to help him conquer Baalros. Nothing would stop him.

It took a few years to gather enough to form a proper army. The hard part was capturing the Ogryns without killing them. Once they were captured it took a minimal amount of time to tame and then train them. It turned out they were sentient, if only in a limited way. Similar to dogs, they could be tamed. They could be trained, and were completely loyal and utterly fearless once they were. It was useless telling them to do much else beyond ‘charge and kill everyone who doesn’t look like us’, but Kaldun didn’t need them to do anything else.

Equipped with his new army and his people’s loyalty, Kaldun marched forth to unite Baalros under the banner of Shandar.

Decades passed. Many battles and wars were fought, friends were gained and lost in the haze of war, and still Kaldun inexorably expanded Shandar’s borders until all bent the knee to him. They were united, and the squabbling over resources was settled through negotiation rather than bloodshed. With Baalros firmly under his control, Kaldun turned his attention to expanding his control over the Ogryn. While there were now thousands completely loyal to him, there were still many more that fought and clawed as feral beasts in the wastes below. They needed to be tamed, to further secure his control over the empire. That task kept his attention for a few years, but eventually almost the entirety of the Ogryn population on Baalros would be tamed and civilized, being turned almost entirely to the grunt labor of Baalros and doing so happily.

With the Ogryns tamed, Kaldun turned his attention to training Baalros’ small Psyker population for battle. While the vast majority of what few Psykers there were had been kings and queens, and their heirs, there were still a few that slipped between the cracks, however. Ones that needed to be trained and guided. To consolidate his power and ensure no other Psykers would try to rise up in rebellion with their powers, Kaldun set about setting up a training center that would help the Psykers control their powers and make them loyal to him.

In time, that task too was finished and Kaldun became restless. He was not meant for governing, or statehood. He was meant for combat and conquest, for war and bloodshed. Without any goal before him that would grant him those things, he found life to be dull. That was when the Emperor arrived, and showed him his true purpose.

The Meeting

: Kaldun stood upon the walls, gazing out over his kingdom. He was bored. Listless. He had conquered his enemies, forcing them to bend the knee. He had broken the Ogryn, taming them into his dim-witted but fiercely loyal army. He had crushed what few rebellions had arisen in an attempt to overthrow his glorious empire. There was nothing to do, no one worthy to fight. The mutants stayed in their frozen pits of hell, either unable or unwilling to ascend the mountains to fight them. The idea of managing his empire, settling disputes over resources and other petty squabbles disgusted him. So here he was, pacing along the walls of Shandar, like an Ogryn trapped in a cage.

He wasn’t meant to be a ruler, least of all in peacetime. There were others in his Empire that were far more suited to the task than he was, he was merely lucky to have been adopted by his father. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to transition over to the trials of ruling during peacetime. Even the Ogryn could be retrained to do simple labor with little trouble. Their low intelligence was a boon, allowing them to happily go from warriors to laborers or farmers with no qualms.

If only he could do the same.

He was also unsettled. His instincts told him to be on guard, but for what? There were no more enemies to battle, no more monsters to slay. Nothing could challenge him, least of all in the center of his power. But still he was still tense. The air felt heavy, like the calm before a brutal storm. Something was coming, but he could not see what it was.

“You’re not meant for this.”

Kaldun whipped around, his short spear at the ready. Standing behind him on the wall was a man, covered in a grey hood. Kaldun had never seen him before, nor did he recognize his voice. But his instincts screamed at the sight of him. As seemingly human as this man was, Kaldun felt a great danger from him. “Who are you? And how did you get past the guards?”

The man walked to the edge of the wall, ignoring Kaldun’s questions. “You’re a warrior. Designed for battle, for conquest. But now there is nothing for you to fight. No enemies for you to conquer. No challenges for you to face. It must chafe, knowing that you are now a weapon without purpose.”

“Answer me! Who are-” Kaldun started to demand, only to be cut off by the man. The sheer authority and command in his voice silenced Kaldun. For the first time in a long time, Kaldun was cowed into silence.

“I can give you purpose.” The man turned to look at Kaldun, and even though he could not see the man’s eyes, Kaldun felt them piercing into his soul. “All you have to do is kneel, and swear allegiance.”

The incredulity of the demand broke the stupor the man’s gaze had brought upon him, and Kaldun roared with laughter. “Swear allegiance to you? You have guts, stranger! To walk up to the King of Baalros and demand he bend the knee! For your courage I will let you live, despite your arrogance. Leave now, while I am in a good mood.” Kaldun turned around, chuckling.

“A duel then.” The man’s voice came again, challenging. “If you win, I’ll go. If I win, you kneel.” Kaldun turned around, smirking. This was the challenge he’d been waiting for. He sensed that this man was dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous person he’d ever met. This was what had been missing. The thrill of danger, the thrill of the fight. “I accept. I hope the journey here wasn’t too long of one.”

The fight itself was pitifully short. As soon as Kaldun attacked, the Emperor revealed himself. Kaldun was blinded in a flash of golden light, his spear easily deflected by the Emperor’s blade. He lashed out with bio-lightning, only for that to be deflected as well. With one blow the Emperor swept Kaldun off of his feet and put him on the ground, blade at his throat. “You asked who I am? I am your father. The Emperor of mankind. You are my son, one of the Primarchs of man. I will give you the purpose you need. I will give you the battles and wars you thrive in.”

Kaldun heard these words and knew them to be true, deep in his soul.

“I kneel to you, my Emperor.”

It would be soon after that Kaldun would be introduced to his Legion. Once proud and powerful, the then named Terran Aegis had been brought low by attrition and mutations, only recently coming into their psychic powers. Kaldun took the 15th legion and reforged them. He taught them to control their powers, stabilizing the mutations. He changed their purpose from being the Imperium’s shield, to being its shining spear. The Golden Spears were born, leading the charge of conquest for the Imperium and for the Emperor.

Legion XV

Legion Name: The Golden Spears (Formerly: The Terran Aegis)

Legion Number: XV

Legion Strength:
-60,000 Astartes
-Millions of Astartes Auxiliaries known as the ‘Baalrosi Golden Corp’ (Constantly reinforced from planets that the Spears conquered). Deploys a much higher amount of Ogryns and Xenos than other Imperial Regiments, and possesses Psyker Squads.

Armour Appearance: Shining Gold with Black Trim. Left shoulder pauldron is black. Legion Symbol is a golden spearhead wreathed in flame, on their left pauldron.

War-cry: “Imperial Spears, Imperial Might!” “Tip of the Spear! Edge of the Blade! Point of the Lance!”

Dramatis Personae:

Chandrian: Captain of the First Company, Kaldun’s most trusted friend and adviser, first to volunteer for the Golden Spears’ Geneseed in Baalros. Terminator Librarian.

Julach: Captain of the Second Company. Non-Psyker.

Zarbiel: One of the first Dreadnoughts of the Spears. One of the few original Astartes from when the legion was first created. Psyker.

Boamiel: High Lord of the ‘Baalrosi Golden Corp’.

Galiar: Fleet Commander.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role:

”You were once the strong shield of the Imperium. You have been broken, but I will reforge those shattered pieces into a mighty weapon to pierce the heart of our enemies. You will be the tip of the spear in our Crusade.” - Primarch Kaldun, upon meeting his legion.

The Golden Spears are a psyker legion, with a third of the Marines having psychic ability. A smaller legion than most, the Golden Spears rely heavily on their core of psykers and their elite skill for their conquests. Generally, these psykers are low level. They have slight premonition that allows them to strike and react seconds before their fellows, they are far more resilient and regenerate faster than their fellows, they can see signs and track better than their fellows, etc etc. These Astartes are often designated into squads and roles that best fit their capabilities. If you have split second premonitions that give you an edge in melee, you are put in an assault squad. If you have higher than normal strength for even an astartes, you are put in a devastator squad. So on, so forth.

The Golden Spears possess a high amount of Librarians due to Astartes developing sufficient psychic capabilities at twice the rate of other legions.

The Librarians of the Spears (known as Vanguards) are the cream of the crop and Kaldun’s prized warriors, each being trained in the same lessons and skills Kaldun himself possesses.

This is not to say that the rest of the Legion, possessing only mutations instead of powers, are cast to the side. Kaldun pushes them to the same level of martial excellence he expects of himself. They are an elite fighting force, even by Astartes standards, capable of fighting in almost any environment and any situation. Often lacking the numerical advantage or support that their fellow Legions have, the Spears pride themselves on being able to defeat their enemies through superior skills at arms.

Due to the Legion’s focus on psychic powers, all of the Golden Spears Terminators and Dreadnoughts are also the legion’s most powerful Librarians. To ease their numbers, Golden Spears Librarians have taken too manipulating war robots of varying sizes and power through psi-matrixes that allow Psykers to seamlessly puppeteer these Battle-Automata even easier than the Legio-Cybernetica. The larger ones can only be controlled by one psyker, while the smaller ones can be controlled in small groups.

Due to their small size, the Golden Spears are followed by the Baalrosi Golden Corp. The Corp uses its massive numbers to fight on all the planets in a system, while the Spears focus on the most difficult planets and defenses. The Corp allows the Spears to conquer efficiently. The Baalrosi Golden Corp is indifferent in its recruitment. If you can be trained, and will fight, they will have you. It doesn’t matter if you are a xenos, a mutant, or a human. All that matters is that you fight for Kaldun, the Golden Conqueror.

As such, they are a more generalist Astarte Auxilia, with enough troops to tackle any challenge that approaches them.

.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: The Golden Spears are fully committed to the idea that they are Mankind’s protectors and champions, boisterously and vigilantly . They view the rest of mankind as children that need to be guided and protected, similar to how parents view small children. This patronizing manner, going into condescension may grate on nerves, but it comes from a place of genuine desire to see humanity improve and protect them. They are often seen establishing military camps and fortresses, securing a planet they have recently conquered from invasion and making the people there strong enough to fight for the Imperium and defend themselves.

If the Legion finds Psykers among the populace, they take them under their wing, training them in both how to wield their powers and how to ensure their powers don’t destroy them (essentially protecting themselves from daemonic possession, but since they don’t know what daemons are, they just assume it’s the powers destroying them.) These Psykers are formed into battle squads and attached to the Baalrosi Golden Legion, to be used for the Imperium.

Geneseed Flaws: The Golden Spears suffer from two flaws. The first is that while their psychic powers are strong, this connection to the Warp results in minor mutations. Sharpened teeth. Pupils that are those of animals. Skin that can be a range of colors, along with eyes of a solid color, or eyes that glow. So on, so forth.

The second is what is referred to as the Joyous Fury. At times, the Marines become filled with the elation of battle, reveling in massacring their enemies. This is marked by a mad laughter as the Marines engage in acts of needless and senseless barbarity, often leaving advantageous positions to bring themselves the joy of slaughter.

Relationships:

Emperor: Kaldun and the Golden Spears are completely loyal to the Emperor. They obey any and all commands he has without question or hesitation.

Imperial Army: The Imperial Army and the Golden Spears are on very good terms. While the way which the Spears tend to act around them can grate, it is all forgiven when the Golden Spears and their force fields block hundreds of rounds of incoming fire, their librarians shred tough enemy fortifications, or the apothecaries heal their wounded.

Mechanicum: The Golden Spears are on good terms with the tech-priests.

Xenos: For the most part, as long as the Xenos aren't a threat to mankind, the Spears attempt to enact the Edict of Tolerance. Not because they believe Xenos are equal or deserve protection, but because they believe that Xenos are better put to use serving humanity and the Imperium than they are exterminated at will. They do not hate Xenos, but certainly look down upon them as lesser.

Other Space Marine Legions: The Spears do their best to be on friendly terms with most of their brother and sister legions. This is not possible for every legion.

Some, due to ideological differences (Such as the Knights of Awe or the Sentinels) they cannot be on friendly terms with. Others, due to their actions (such as the Lurkers) they despise on principle. The rest are varying degrees of neutral or friendly, depending on how they react to the arrogance of the Golden Spears,their claim that they are superior to normal humans, and their insistence upon subjugating Xenos.

Blades of the Blood Coast: A Grimdark Mercenary Roleplay

I'll put my interest in.

NPC: Yes.

Leader: Yes, ideally the NPC.

Dice: Neutral.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

The Golden Spears are ready for reentry.

Primarch

Name: Kaldun, the Golden Conqueror

Gender: Male

Homeworld: Baalros

Baalros is a Feral Death planet located on the far reaches of imperial space and is mostly mountainous terrain with frozen valleys in between the peaks, filled with mutated monsters. Nearly all of the 15 million strong population lives in fortress cities atop these mountains, safe from the highly aggressive and mutated nightmares below. These cities are built around ancient gravity wells, keeping the oppressive and crushing natural gravity of Baalros at bay. Once, before the rise of Primarch Kaldun, hordes of Feral Ogryn roamed the frozen plains and would attack the fortresses fairly regularly. Now, nearly all of the Ogryn that exist on Baalros are tamed, and completely loyal to Kaldun and the Imperium.

It had always been a haven for those who wanted to escape the galaxy’s notice, and where the powerful would send their criminals or other undesirables. This was no exception when the Age of Strife began, and psykers either fled the persecution they faced on their own planets and throughout human space, or were sent there by the more merciful planetary rulers, to hide their shame.

When warp storms devastated the surrounding system, Baalros barely survived. It’s already harsh frozen lands were aggressively mutated by the storms, turning what were once merely inhospitable lands into hellscapes of mutants and monsters. The people fled to the mountains, building fortresses around the gravity wells ( that allowed the wardens of the prisoners to survive on the high gravity planet) to fight off the nightmares below. In the inevitable power struggles that followed, psykers would rise to be the ruling class. Of those, the only ones that survived were the ones who learned how to defend themselves from possession and master their powers.. They and their chosen followers established small kingdoms in the mountains, and would war with each other over resources and control within the gravity wells. By the time the warp storms had ended, Baalros had regressed back to the iron age with the Psyker King’s bloodlines still ruling with an iron fist and battling with each other for dominance. The reasoning for the teachings the Psyker King’s passed down to each other from generation to generation was forgotten, but never stopped, protecting them from the predators of the Warp even if they no longer even knew of the Warp.

Appearance: Kaldun stands at 12 feet tall, with golden hair, fair skin, and piercing golden eyes that are often shining with light. His most common attire is power armor that is similar to that of his Legion, shining gold with a black trim, the golden spear wreathed in flame that marks the heraldry of the Legion emblazoned on his chest. It was designed by his sister Eiosha, and is highly prized by him.

On the rare occasion he is not in armor, Kaldun wears Astartes robes and a body glove.

Personality: Arrogant, self-righteous, proud, rowdy, and possessing a temper that is both quick to ignite and terrible to behold, Kaldun is akin to a force of nature. Weakness and self-doubt were the traits of the dead in Baalros, and it is a lesson that Kaldun keeps with him at all times, especially as a leader in the Great Crusade. There is no place in the Emperor’s plan for doubt, and any weakness must be crushed if Kaldun’s father’s plan is to be realized. He possesses little patience for the careful planning and plotting of some of his brothers or sisters, instead preferring to rush forward and claim his destiny, and the destiny of mankind. He is not rash, having learned his lesson from his father’s death, but he does not plan out his every move.

After bringing his savage homeworld under his control and taming as much of it as possible, Kaldun has an unshakeable faith in himself and his path. If he has made a choice, he is certain it is the right one and there is nearly nothing that can dissuade him from it. While proud, Kaldun isn’t resistant to change. This is most readily apparent in his approach to psychic abilities, technology, and tactics of his enemies, even xenos. If it is a technique he can learn, a technology his legion can benefit from, or tactics he can put to use, he will do so.

He takes a savage joy in all aspects of life, from the sorrows of defeat to the elations of victory.

Kaldun is not suited for the more patient or delicate tasks. He is not the one who plans out great strategies, the logistics of war, or organizing a planet after it has been conquered. Kaldun chafes under what he views as the shackles of running an empire. He is a conqueror, not an administrator and leaves the intricacies to those far more suited than he is.

Skills:

Conqueror: Kaldun is a master of battle. While this is true of all other Primarchs, Kaldun takes it to an obsessive level. At the expense of nearly all other skills, Kaldun has dedicated himself to the art of battle.

Kaldun in particular has dedicated himself to combat in all its forms, and is a force of nature on the battlefield. He is at his best with the enemy before him and a weapon in his hand, leading the charge or dueling his opponent. While not as fast as Nelchitl or as brutally powerful as his brother Sarghaul he is one of the most dangerous Primarchs to face in combat.

This obsession has cost him in all other areas Primarchs are skilled in. He cannot inspire his men through words like his brother Prometheus, organize a planet after conquest like his sister Eiosha, manipulate politics like his sister Sekhmetara, or be an impartial arbitrator like his sister Daena. He plans only as far as his next conquest. He has no patience for the years and decades of ruling afterwards.

Kaldun is a Conqueror, and he lives for the conquest.

Psyker King: Kaldun is one of the most powerful Psykers in the Imperium, capable of both skills of impeccable finesse and terrifying raw power, and he doesn't shy away from using his powers. He was taught by his mortal father in Baalros that his powers are meant to be used to their fullest ability to establish his control and protect those under his charge, and Kaldun keeps those teachings with him. As such, Kaldun views his powers as a tool more than anything else, a weapon to be used against the Imperium's foes. He wields them as another weapon in his arsenal. A very powerful one, certainly, but nothing more than another tool of war. It matters little where these powers come from, so long as they function. This mentality, pressed upon him by Baalros and its focus on function and survival, has led him to mostly ignore the Warp. While he is aware of its existence and knows that it is where he draws his powers from, Kaldun spends little to no time actually looking into it the little bit that he can. So long as it keeps fueling his powers, he cares little for what it is and how it works.

Aura of Glory: Part of what makes Kaldun so dangerous in combat is that the absolute confidence he has in his own victory combined with his immense psychic powers, has led to a large psychic aura emanating from him at all times. Those who fight with him that are in the aura feel their fears washed away, find themselves capable of going beyond what they thought their limits were, and find that they are more resistant to all forms of damage. Kaldun’s men fight harder, longer, and more fiercely while in his aura.

At the center of this Aura, Kaldun himself is impervious to an immense amount of damage. Be it psychic, environmental, or physical, the aura stops most forms of harm from even reaching Kaldun’s form. So powerful is his confidence that he will win that it takes an enormous amount of effort to harm him.

Unbeknownst to Kaldun and his allies, there is a significant drawback to this power. Should Kaldun’s confidence waver (such as if his men are dying around him, he is actually harmed and cannot respond, a tactical blunder on his part putting himself and his men into a bad position, or his own attacks being shrugged off) the aura shrinks. Weapons and attacks that normally would be stopped begin to actually hit Kaldun and, should his confidence go low enough, begin to harm him.

If Kaldun’s confidence were to ever give into despair, the aura turns on himself and his allies. Where previously attacks would either do less harm or none at all, they begin doing more harm than they should. Fear and despair enters the hearts of himself and his men, and they feel the strength sapped from their limbs.

For now, Kaldun remains unaware of this threat. No weapon can harm him, and his sons are blessed with more of his protection. It will undoubtedly shake him to his core should he discover that his gift can turn on him.

To expand on his Aura of Glory, it doesn't mean that Kaldun is impervious to damage, it means that it takes much more to damage him initially, and that as you continue damaging him it'll be more and more effective. He's not gonna be able to take a hit from another Primarch (or something similarly powerful) or an artillery strike and come out unharmed, but the initial damage won't be as much as it should've been. As it continues, the damage will get more and more effective until it's more effective than it should be.

Assignment Grade: Alpha.

Kaldun has mastered all the known Imperial Disciplines with ease, instinctively picking up the skills as he was taught them (though, it should be noted that his definition of mastering divination is to study the skill long enough that he can lightly reach into the future in battle giving him supernatural instincts and reactions to attacks) and has a myriad of other powers that aren't defined to the Imperial Disciplines. An immensely powerful Psyker Kaldun is one of the strongest Psychics in the entirety of the Imperium.

Biography: When Kaldun crashed through his mortal father’s wall King Calan took this as a sign from the gods. The King had been praying for an heir, as he and his wife had been unsuccessfully trying for years, and then Kaldun appeared. A child with golden locks, wrapped in a strange shell. Calan claimed the child as his own, and began raising him as the next ruler of Shandar, the fortress city and what territory surrounded it. In six months Kaldun was as large as the tallest of teenagers. In a year, he was taller than all the warriors in Shandar. He had already surpassed the warriors in terms of physical strength and combat skill, showing a natural affinity for the art of war, and was rapidly beginning to exceed his father in terms of psychic power and skill. Another year passed and Kaldun gained more and more power and experience as he was taught the art of war by hunting the feral Ogryn and culling their numbers around Shandar. He was ready and raring for actual war, to test his might against foes who weren’t simply wild beasts. Soon, Kaldun got his wish and war reached Shandar. The fortress city’s most valuable mine had been seized by a rival, and Calan refused to let such a brazen act go unanswered; he sent a war party to the mine, with Kaldun in its ranks.

They found the rival’s forces dug in, and descended upon them like the wrath of the heavens. Kaldun was a force of nature, roaring with laughter and savage glee as he tore through the enemy with blade and magic. They were destroyed within moments, and the mine reclaimed. Kaldun was more at home in battle than he had ever been in his father’s halls, and he was eager to return to it. His father declared war on the rival city, and Kaldun once more marched to war. Over the next few years he would engage in and lead his father’s forces to victory, fighting viciously in the mountains that were their homes. They pushed the enemy back to their own city, until the rival city sued for peace. Calan, despite Kaldun’s protestations, accepted the delegation into Shandar.

Things were going well, with terms for peace that were exceedingly favorable being drawn up by Kaldun’s father, until one of the warriors defending the diplomat made a snide remark. Already balking at the idea of anything less than total victory, Kaldun leapt at the excuse for a fight and attacked. In the ensuing brawl, Kaldun's father was slain. The diplomat and his guards were dead, and peace was no longer an option.

Ascending to the throne of Shandar the very next day, Kaldun would never forgive himself for failing to protect his father. His actions, of course, had been right. But he had launched too rashly, and it had cost him. He would control them better, hone them to a fine point. Neither did he forgive Shandar’s rival for starting the war in the first place. It was there that he focused the bulk of his rage upon, and the bulk of the rage of his people. Within a week, he had rallied his armies and marched to the rival city, demanding their surrender in return for mercy. Predictably, they refused. Kaldun and his army got their wish. After six months of brutal fighting, they cracked the city’s walls and conquered its populace. The leaders were executed, the citizens subjugated. Exulting in his victory, and gazing out from the walls Kaldun turned his thoughts to the rest of Baalros. It was a fractured world, filled with cities that fought each other as much as they fought the planet itself, weakening one another further and further. A world that needed to unite, that he needed to unite.

Unfortunately, as he gazed upon his weary troops and his newly conquered subjects, he realized that he would need better soldiers. As willing and brave as his troops were, they needed more rest and there were some who still wondered if he should lead them after indirectly causing his father’s death. Doubtlessly as well there would be braver people he conquered, who would refuse to fight for him. No, he needed powerful soldiers, who would be able to fight tirelessly and loyally. Who would not question.

Kaldun’s eyes were drawn to movement in the distance. A lone feral Ogryn, investigating the noise of celebration. An idea blossomed in Kaldun’s mind, and he smiled. Ogryn could learn, he had seen that much himself. They could be tamed, even if it was only through respecting power. They were seemingly tireless, and utterly loyal to whatever passed as a leader of their chief. They would be perfect.

His advisers called him mad. His warriors rankled at the idea of fighting beside the monsters they had culled for so long. But, as in all things, Kaldun had set his mind upon something and they could do nothing before his will. He would train an army of Ogryn to fight for him, to help him conquer Baalros. Nothing would stop him.

It took a few years to gather enough to form a proper army. The hard part was capturing the Ogryns without killing them. Once they were captured it took a minimal amount of time to tame and then train them. It turned out they were sentient, if only in a limited way. Similar to dogs, they could be tamed. They could be trained, and were completely loyal and utterly fearless once they were. It was useless telling them to do much else beyond ‘charge and kill everyone who doesn’t look like us’, but Kaldun didn’t need them to do anything else.

Equipped with his new army and his people’s loyalty, Kaldun marched forth to unite Baalros under the banner of Shandar.

Decades passed. Many battles and wars were fought, friends were gained and lost in the haze of war, and still Kaldun inexorably expanded Shandar’s borders until all bent the knee to him. They were united, and the squabbling over resources was settled through negotiation rather than bloodshed. With Baalros firmly under his control, Kaldun turned his attention to expanding his control over the Ogryn. While there were now thousands completely loyal to him, there were still many more that fought and clawed as feral beasts in the wastes below. They needed to be tamed, to further secure his control over the empire. That task kept his attention for a few years, but eventually almost the entirety of the Ogryn population on Baalros would be tamed and civilized, being turned almost entirely to the grunt labor of Baalros and doing so happily.

With the Ogryns tamed, Kaldun turned his attention to training Baalros’ small Psyker population for battle. While the vast majority of what few Psykers there were had been kings and queens, and their heirs, there were still a few that slipped between the cracks, however. Ones that needed to be trained and guided. To consolidate his power and ensure no other Psykers would try to rise up in rebellion with their powers, Kaldun set about setting up a training center that would help the Psykers control their powers and make them loyal to him.

In time, that task too was finished and Kaldun became restless. He was not meant for governing, or statehood. He was meant for combat and conquest, for war and bloodshed. Without any goal before him that would grant him those things, he found life to be dull. That was when the Emperor arrived, and showed him his true purpose.

The Meeting

: Kaldun stood upon the walls, gazing out over his kingdom. He was bored. Listless. He had conquered his enemies, forcing them to bend the knee. He had broken the Ogryn, taming them into his dim-witted but fiercely loyal army. He had crushed what few rebellions had arisen in an attempt to overthrow his glorious empire. There was nothing to do, no one worthy to fight. The mutants stayed in their frozen pits of hell, either unable or unwilling to ascend the mountains to fight them. The idea of managing his empire, settling disputes over resources and other petty squabbles disgusted him. So here he was, pacing along the walls of Shandar, like an Ogryn trapped in a cage.

He wasn’t meant to be a ruler, least of all in peacetime. There were others in his Empire that were far more suited to the task than he was, he was merely lucky to have been adopted by his father. Try as he might, he could not bring himself to transition over to the trials of ruling during peacetime. Even the Ogryn could be retrained to do simple labor with little trouble. Their low intelligence was a boon, allowing them to happily go from warriors to laborers or farmers with no qualms.

If only he could do the same.

He was also unsettled. His instincts told him to be on guard, but for what? There were no more enemies to battle, no more monsters to slay. Nothing could challenge him, least of all in the center of his power. But still he was still tense. The air felt heavy, like the calm before a brutal storm. Something was coming, but he could not see what it was.

“You’re not meant for this.”

Kaldun whipped around, his short spear at the ready. Standing behind him on the wall was a man, covered in a grey hood. Kaldun had never seen him before, nor did he recognize his voice. But his instincts screamed at the sight of him. As seemingly human as this man was, Kaldun felt a great danger from him. “Who are you? And how did you get past the guards?”

The man walked to the edge of the wall, ignoring Kaldun’s questions. “You’re a warrior. Designed for battle, for conquest. But now there is nothing for you to fight. No enemies for you to conquer. No challenges for you to face. It must chafe, knowing that you are now a weapon without purpose.”

“Answer me! Who are-” Kaldun started to demand, only to be cut off by the man. The sheer authority and command in his voice silenced Kaldun. For the first time in a long time, Kaldun was cowed into silence.

“I can give you purpose.” The man turned to look at Kaldun, and even though he could not see the man’s eyes, Kaldun felt them piercing into his soul. “All you have to do is kneel, and swear allegiance.”

The incredulity of the demand broke the stupor the man’s gaze had brought upon him, and Kaldun roared with laughter. “Swear allegiance to you? You have guts, stranger! To walk up to the King of Baalros and demand he bend the knee! For your courage I will let you live, despite your arrogance. Leave now, while I am in a good mood.” Kaldun turned around, chuckling.

“A duel then.” The man’s voice came again, challenging. “If you win, I’ll go. If I win, you kneel.” Kaldun turned around, smirking. This was the challenge he’d been waiting for. He sensed that this man was dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous person he’d ever met. This was what had been missing. The thrill of danger, the thrill of the fight. “I accept. I hope the journey here wasn’t too long of one.”

The fight itself was pitifully short. As soon as Kaldun attacked, the Emperor revealed himself. Kaldun was blinded in a flash of golden light, his spear easily deflected by the Emperor’s blade. He lashed out with bio-lightning, only for that to be deflected as well. With one blow the Emperor swept Kaldun off of his feet and put him on the ground, blade at his throat. “You asked who I am? I am your father. The Emperor of mankind. You are my son, one of the Primarchs of man. I will give you the purpose you need. I will give you the battles and wars you thrive in.”

Kaldun heard these words and knew them to be true, deep in his soul.

“I kneel to you, my Emperor.”

It would be soon after that Kaldun would be introduced to his Legion. Once proud and powerful, the then named Terran Aegis had been brought low by attrition and mutations, only recently coming into their psychic powers. Kaldun took the 15th legion and reforged them. He taught them to control their powers, stabilizing the mutations. He changed their purpose from being the Imperium’s shield, to being its shining spear. The Golden Spears were born, leading the charge of conquest for the Imperium and for the Emperor.

Legion XV

Legion Name: The Golden Spears (Formerly: The Emperor’s Aegis)

Legion Number: XV

Legion Strength:
-60,000 Astartes
-Millions of Astartes Auxiliaries known as the ‘Baalrosi Golden Corp’ (Constantly reinforced from planets that the Spears conquered). Deploys a much higher amount of Ogryns and Xenos than other Imperial Regiments, and possesses Psyker Squads.

Armour Appearance: Shining Gold with Black Trim. Left shoulder pauldron is black. Legion Symbol is a golden spearhead wreathed in flame, on their left pauldron.

War-cry: “Imperial Spears! Imperial Might!” “Tip of the Spear! Edge of the Blade! Point of the Lance!”

Dramatis Personae:

Chandrian: Captain of the First Company, Kaldun’s most trusted friend and adviser, first to volunteer for the Golden Spears’ Geneseed in Baalros. Terminator Librarian.

Julach: Captain of the Second Company. Non-Psyker.

Zarbiel: One of the first Dreadnoughts of the Spears. One of the few original Astartes from when the legion was first created. Psyker.

Boamiel: High Lord of the ‘Baalrosi Golden Corp’.

Galiar: Fleet Commander.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role:

”You were once the strong shield of the Imperium. You have been broken, but I will reforge those shattered pieces into a mighty weapon to pierce the heart of our enemies. You will be the tip of the spear in our Crusade.” - Primarch Kaldun, upon meeting his legion.

The Golden Spears are a psyker legion, with a third of the Marines having psychic ability. A smaller legion than most, the Golden Spears rely heavily on their core of psykers and their elite skill for their conquests. Generally, these psykers are low level. They have slight premonition that allows them to strike and react seconds before their fellows, they are far more resilient and regenerate faster than their fellows, they can see signs and track better than their fellows, etc etc. These Astartes are often designated into squads and roles that best fit their capabilities. If you have split second premonitions that give you an edge in melee, you are put in an assault squad. If you have higher than normal strength for even an astartes, you are put in a devastator squad. So on, so forth.

The Golden Spears possess a high amount of Librarians due to Astartes developing sufficient psychic capabilities at twice the rate of other legions.

The Librarians of the Spears (known as Vanguards) are the cream of the crop and Kaldun’s prized warriors, each being trained in the same lessons and skills Kaldun himself possesses.

Some Spears show an affinity for machines and controlling them. They are trained as Techpriests, and the Librarians among them use their powers to control the Guardian (guardians being the Spears own mechanical robots purposefully designed for such psychic manipulation. Not as quality as mechanicus units, but rugged and can take punishment) units of the Golden Spears. Based off of these guys

This is not to say that the rest of the Legion, possessing only mutations instead of powers, are cast to the side. Kaldun pushes them to the same level of martial excellence he expects of himself. They are an elite fighting force, capable of fighting in almost any environment and any situation. Often lacking the numerical advantage or support that their fellow Legions have, the Spears pride themselves on being able to defeat their enemies through superior skills at arms.

Due to the Legion’s focus on psychic powers, all of the Golden Spears Terminators and Dreadnoughts are also the legion’s most powerful Librarians.

Due to their small size, the Golden Spears are followed by the Baalrosi Golden Corp. The Corp uses its massive numbers to fight on all the planets in a system, while the Spears focus on the most difficult planets and defenses. The Corp allows the Spears to conquer efficiently. The Baalrosi Golden Corp is indifferent in its recruitment. If you can be trained, and will fight, they will have you. It doesn’t matter if you are a xenos, a mutant, or a human. All that matters is that you fight for Kaldun, the Golden Conqueror.

As such, they are a more generalist Astarte Auxilia, with enough troops to tackle any challenge that approaches them.

.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: The Golden Spears are fully committed to the idea that they are Mankind’s protectors and champions, boisterously and vigilantly . They view the rest of mankind as children that need to be guided and protected, similar to how parents view small children. This patronizing manner, going into condescension may grate on nerves, but it comes from a place of genuine desire to see humanity improve and protect them. They are often seen establishing military camps and fortresses, securing a planet they have recently conquered from invasion and making the people there strong enough to fight for the Imperium and defend themselves.

If the Legion finds Psykers among the populace, they take them under their wing, training them in both how to wield their powers and how to ensure their powers don’t destroy them (essentially protecting themselves from daemonic possession, but since they don’t know what daemons are, they just assume it’s the powers destroying them.) These Psykers are formed into battle squads and attached to the Baalrosi Golden Legion, to be used for the Imperium.

Geneseed Flaws: The Golden Spears suffer from two flaws. The first is that while their psychic powers are strong, this connection to the Warp results in minor mutations. Sharpened teeth. Pupils that are those of animals. Skin that can be a range of colors, along with eyes of a solid color, or eyes that glow. So on, so forth.

The second is what is referred to as the Joyous Fury. At times, the Marines become filled with the elation of battle, reveling in massacring their enemies. This is marked by a mad laughter as the Marines engage in acts of needless and senseless barbarity, often leaving advantageous positions to bring themselves the joy of slaughter.

Relationships:

Emperor: Kaldun and the Golden Spears are completely loyal to the Emperor. They obey any and all commands he has without question or hesitation.

Imperial Army: The Imperial Army and the Golden Spears are on very good terms. While the way which the Spears tend to act around them can grate, it is all forgiven when the Golden Spears and their force fields block hundreds of rounds of incoming fire, their librarians shred tough enemy fortifications, or the apothecaries heal their wounded.

Mechanicum: The Golden Spears are on good terms with the tech-priests.

Xenos: For the most part, as long as the Xenos aren't a threat to mankind, the Spears attempt to enact the Edict of Tolerance. Not because they believe Xenos are equal or deserve protection, but because they believe that Xenos are better put to use serving humanity and the Imperium than they are exterminated at will. They do not hate Xenos, but certainly look down upon them as lesser.

Other Space Marine Legions (to be expanded upon):

Falling Skies: Reboot (Mecha, Space Opera)

So I see this is full, but if one exists, add me to the waiting list for if more spots ever open up!

@an abomunist

Put me on said list too, please!

The Black Prophecy (Dead now; requiescat in pace!)

I unfortunately seem to have run out of time for this, and as such will have to be withdrawing. Thank you for your consideration, and good luck with your future writings!

@Cyclone@Oraculum

The Black Prophecy (Dead now; requiescat in pace!)

Withdrawn.

Scion

Identity: Ogrenauth. The Six That Are One. The Axe, The Spear, The Bow, The Smith, The Mage, The Shadow (individually).

Type: Scion

Myth: "Heed me, citizens of Marleon and children of the Exalted! Heed my words and learn from them! I speak the truth, and the Exalted speaks through me! Listen, and learn!

There are none more reviled by the Exalted than the Coward and the Traitor. Those of you who doubt my words need only to look at the most wretched and debased of the Fell peoples. Those foul beings we know as Ogres. They were not always these pathetic creatures we know today. They were not always driven by gluttony, cursed with stupidity, and eradicated to the verge of extinction. Indeed, before the time of the Great War, before the Black God's arrival, they were a proud and mighty people.

Do not laugh, children of the Exalted! It was many years before the Dawn Days, but they were not always the towering brutes we have defeated today. They lived on the Broken Isles, then a unified land off the coast of Outremer. The island's name, and the names of the six tribes that inhabited it, have been struck from the memory of man. The erasing of their name and history is the least of the Exalted's punishments. These six tribes were large and powerful, constantly battling with one another for control over their island. But even they could not withstand the foul armies of the Black God that arrived upon their shores. Pushed back by the hordes of monsters and the terrible Scions that lead them, the tribes turned to a terrible ritual in desperation. The mightiest champion of each tribe went forth to this ritual and in a profane act against all that is good, they combined their souls and powers for the strength to resist the invasion. Through this foul act, they reached powers they had never dreamed of separately and together they began to push back the tide. They began to save their island, and unite their peoples.

Then the Black God arrived on their shores himself, and smote them down.

Fearing for the fate of their peoples, the six made a deal with the Greatest of Evils. They and their people would serve him, and in return they would be allowed to live. The Black God agreed, and their island was spared.

Do not let pity enter your hearts, children of the Exalted! Do not think that this was a reasonable choice, an understandable act. Through this cowardly act, seeking only to save themselves and their kin, the six betrayed the Exalted and doomed their island! Through their cowardice, their willingness to give up their values, their lives, and their very souls, they butchered many an innocent on Outremer at the head of the Black God's armies! The six became known as the Ogrenauth, abomination in the Old Tongue. Their names have been struck from the memory of man, these shards of the abomination, but their titles and their atrocities remain!

The Axe. He who shattered the impenetrable gate of the Ruthan, the mightiest city of its age. He drowned the city in its own blood, for no weapon could pierce his skin and no armor nor fortification could resist his strength.

The Spear. He who lead the slaughter of the army of the First Crusade against the Black God. To face him in battle was to know defeat, for he saw his opponent's actions before they happened.

The Bow. He who destroyed the great griffins, the Exalted's favoured beasts of the sky. They could not escape his wrath, for his aim never missed.

The Smith. She who emptied the land of Arugoth. Using dark rituals she forced the souls of her victims to power her foul bronze creations, made in the mockery of man. Fire was her friend, and the blood of the earth did her no harm.

The Mage. She whose blood ritual of a thousand prisoners summoned the storm that sank the Exalted's first Fleet, preventing the invasion of her isle. Countless foul curses, dark blessings, and profane rituals came from her lips.

The Shadow. She who stole into the heart of the Great Marleon, and massacred the royal family. The shadows and night protected her, preventing her from being seen.

Separately, the Ogrenauth were powerful. Together, they were terrifying. Their powers expanded beyond themselves, and they were akin to a force of nature that seemingly could not be stopped. But stop them the Exalted and his chosen did! So great was the power of his Chosen that they battled with the Ogrenauth and the Black God's other Scions toe to toe! The Exalted, at the head of his great army, struck down the Black God in the war's final battles. Seeing their foul God fall, the Ogrenauth fled to their island with their people and abandoned their fellow Scions.

After finishing the battle, so great was The Exalted's disgust that he fell upon the Ogrenauth's isle with a burning fury. He shattered the isle, turning it into the Broken Isles we know today. He massacred nearly all of the six tribes, and cursed the survivors to the wretched, stupid, existence they know today.

And the Ogrenauth? The Exalted ripped their soul from the bodies it shared and bound its six parts to different parts of the isle, doomed forevermore to stare out over the shattered remains of their home.

The Coward and the Traitor, children of the Exalted. None are more reviled."

Rogue Being

Identity: Rukath

Type: Rogue Being

Myth: "But Da, you have to listen! I saw it with my own eyes! The hill moved just like gr-" Rogal was cut off by an angry hand wave and a harsh "Enough!" from his father. The two of them were riding the family wagon away from their small village, laden with vegetables and wool from their harvest, being dutifully pulled by two tired horses. They'd only been going an hour, but they were getting dangerously close to the cursed hill. The hill where the troll was almost certainly waiting for them. Rogal had tried to warn his father of what he had seen, but his father wouldn't believe him. It was incredibly frustrating.

Rogal's father sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Your grandfather had been mad from the day he slipped and cracked his head against that stone. You know that. By the White God, he would claim to see fairies cursing our crops! It was damn near a blessing the day he died, Exalted forgive me." Rogal shrank away as his father turned to face him, an angry look on his face. "The fact that you still believe in his mad babblings at 12 years old is disgraceful."

"But I saw it-" Rogal's protest was cut off by another hand wave. "No, what you did was fall asleep watching the flock again! You had a nightmare, that's all. This isn't even troll country, much less a secret resting place of a great monster."

Rogal shook his head in frustration. "Yes it is Da!" He kept talking, ignoring his father's groan. "It was just like Grandpa said. Midday, the hill started moving. Something clawed its way out of the ground, like it had been buried! I saw four arms and a giant mouth, filled with teeth! But there was blood coming from the mouth, like it had been hurt. It was struggling to move when this giant troll, bigger than the trees, came out of the woods! It howled and just started...started...eating the hill! The hill couldn't fight it off and the Troll just kept tearing into it! And it grew da! It grew as it was eating the hill! I tried to sneak away but I accidentally stepped on a stick and it saw me! It saw me and I'm sure it followed me and we have to go and warn the town and get the knig-!" Rogal's breathless stream of words was cut off by his father's agnry shout.

"That's enough Rogal! If you don't stop with your ridiculous tale, I swear I'll tan your-" There was a blur of green movement and Rogal was thrown from the wagon as something slammed into the front of it. He crashed against a tree and then hit the ground. There was awful screaming and tearing noises behind him. Rogal tried to get up, to move, but his lungs wouldn't draw breath. His head spun, even though he was sure he was laying on the ground still. With difficulty, he flipped himself over and looked at the road.

The wagon was shattered, it's goods scattered over the ground. There was a large green shape crouching over the front of it. The screams had stopped, and all that was left was a terrible crunching sound. He tried to pull himself away, to get away from the overpowering smell of gore, but as he put pressure on his wrist sharp pain shot up it and he screamed.

The shape whirled around, a hand still hanging from its jaws. It was the troll from earlier, staring at him with those same golden eyes. It swallowed the hand and stood. Rogal could swear that it grew as finished eating the hand.

"Rogal."

The troll spoke his name, slowly and carefully. Rogal's mind and body froze in response. The troll had spoke. In common. It said his name. Trolls can't speak common. Trolls can't speak common. Trolls can't speak common.

The thought repeated through Rogal's mind as the large green hand reached for him.

"Rogal."

Yggdrasil Chronicles: Iron Grip

The quaint little clinic was mostly empty, thankfully. The earthquake hadn't been significant enough to cause mass injuries and the weather wasn't bad enough to bring sickness. The two attendants were left mostly to themselves in the front of the shop. The human girl, Roxy, idly tapped her fingers against the counter. The orc man, Magrun, was sweeping once again. It was unnecessary. The stone floors and walls were all spotless. The simple rugs were free of dust, and the wooden chairs and tables had been polished and swept three times over by now. If not for the idle carvings (names, drawings, seemingly random shapes, and the like) in them they would look like new. Even the paintings of pigs that hung on the wall and the porcine figurines had all been meticulously cleaned. Not that they were ever allowed to be dirty, of course. Faeril took great care in making sure his prized possessions were consistently clean. All in all, it was a quiet, boring day in the front of the clinic.

The back of the clinic was a different matter entirely.

"Ow!" The young man jerked back in pain, pulling his shoulder away from Faeril and earning a scowl from the dwarf in front of him. "Stop jerking away, I can't set your shoulder if you keep runnin away!" The human jerked away at the sharpness of the tone, tears in his eyes. "It hurts." Faeril rolled his eyes. "Of course it hurts! You jumped off of a ladder that was twelve feet off the ground!"

"I didn't jump off! I fell during the earthquake!" Faeril held up his hands in mock apology. "Oh, I'm sorry! A little movement of the earth and you lose all your balance! Hills must be absolutely terrifying for you! Now hold still or your arm is gonna get stuck like that!" The man gingerly held out his shoulder as Faeril reached forwards once again. The dwarf paused as he saw the young man tense in preparation for the pain. He sighed. "This isn't gonna work. Here, we'll have to try something else. Roxy!" His attendant poked her head through the curtain, looking at the young man on the bed and Faeril on the stool in front of him. "Yes, Fae?"

As the young man relaxed, distracted by Roxy, Faeril moved quickly. Before his patient could even react he popped the shoulder back into place. As his patient howled in pain and surprise, before quieting down at the realization that his shoulder felt much better, Faeril hopped off of the stool and walked into the front of the clinic. "You know the drill Roxy, tell him what to avoid doing, for how long, and how much he owes us. I'm going to go see if there's anything to do now aside from watch Magrun attempt to sweep through the ground. She gave a light laugh, stepping aside and then into the back to reassure and inform their patient.

"Any dirt left in the shop Magrun?" The orc gave a light chuckle. "No sir. I made quite sure to eradicate all forms of it during the several hours before our first and only patient." Faeril nodded, looking up at his various pig figurines. "And you made sure to check the pigs for their issues as well?" Another chuckle. "Yes sir. Everything is in tip top shape." Faeril snorted lightly. "Make sure to check our supplies. I don't want us to be caught off guard when the after shocks collapse the town around us." Magrun shook his head, setting the broom aside. "Yes sir. I'll go make sure that we're ready for the after shocks that will surely be worse than the light tremors that we experienced earlier." He walked into the back, ducking through the curtain as Faeril glared at his back. "Mouthy little ungrateful...." Faeril muttered, walking outside.

"A letter for you sir!" He was accosted almost immediately by a runner. Before he could reply, a letter was put in his hands and the girl was gone, running off to her next delivery. Faeril opened up the blank envelope and quickly read over the brief letter. Roxy was setting their patient on his way as he put the letter away, turning back inside in thoughtfulness. "What do you have there Fae?" Faeril jerked out of his inner thoughts and blinked at her. "Oh, uh, a letter from a cousin. I've got to leave the clinic early today."

"Why's that?" Roxy's eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. She couldn't remember the last time Faeril had left the clinic early.

"We've got a family meeting, Roxy. And no, I'm not telling you why. Stop being so nosy!"

Hours later

Faeril kept his head down and his eyes forward, fear and adrenaline pulsing through him as he walked by the Asgardian patrol. There wasn't even any good reason for his fear. He had already burned the letter before leaving for the meeting and it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would recognize him years after he had left the army. Still, his fears never died. This group was the third of such patrols he had encountered on his extremely roundabout way to the manor, and though he was sure they would recognize him and drag him off to prison as a deserter each one kept ignoring him. It was a blessing that he would never fully accept, for any relaxation on his part could easily result in them finding out who he was and what he had been. So he kept his head down and walked quickly, every sense straining for a sign that the patrol was going to stop and accost him or recognize him. None ever did, and he saw the manor within sight soon after. It was a relief to be near his goal and somewhere that offered some safety from prying eyes.

What was not a relief was the two strangers apparently chatting by the front gates for no reason. A gnome and a human, idly standing around where he was heading. Either they were going to the same place, for whatever reason, or they were hoping to find someone rich to beg money off of or pitch ideas too. Either way, he wasn't going to stop and talk. Too many prying eyes, to much time he didn't need to spend out in the the open hanging around. Faeril didn't stop as he advanced to the manor, ignoring the two by the front gate and going forward into the manor. He breathed a small sigh of relief as the door closed behind him, looking around. It appeared he was the first one here, if you didn't count the two outside. Which he did not.

After Action Report

-Faeril treats a young man who fell off a ladder and dislocated his shoulder during the earthquake.

-He receives a letter informing him about the meeting and he leaves the clinic early in the hands of his two aids, Roxy and Magrun.

-Taking a very long and roundabout walk through the city, Faeril makes his way to the manor.

-He ignores Winston and Teuvo and heads straight inside.

Chrono Asylum: Prelude to Madness

Throwdown

Yin had sat for all of fifteen minutes before abruptly standing, slamming the table, claiming this was stupid and leaving her designated class on alchemic theory. She made sure to slam the door in response to her instructor requesting her to come back and proceeded to walk onto the training field. This place was where she felt comfortable and it spoke volumes when the thought of battle soothed her. She was well aware of her psychological evaluation that claimed she was 'unhinged' and 'uncontrollable'. Did it bother her? Nope.

She was one of the 'old bloods', practically royalty in the alchemic world. She was a prodigious heiress of said 'old bloods' and she was one of the few Chrono Candidates destined to take a seat of power within Amro. What she definitely was not, was someone who could stand bullshit and weaklings. Yin always thought it was a testament to her sheer will that she had managed to spend all those years at Innocence without killing half her teachers and peers. Everyone knew of her Chrono potential and yet she was deemed unsuitable to be a Chrono Asylum and as such was forced to study among the refuse and cannon fodder. "I will burn them all and claw my way to the top," Yin finally spoke through clenched teeth as she observed her fellow peers spar.

Perhaps due to her state of rage or day-dreaming the girl was unable to counter the rock that smashed her between the eyes. For a few seconds her vision swam and blood trickled down the wound and then her alchemic drive activated. Her bleeding slowed to a stop and her glazed eyes became focused on the target. Her prey were a group of burley students, all by technicality her senior at Innocense.

"Ah if if ain't the queen bitch." One of the students spoke up, his own alchemic drive activated along with his peers. Each impressive in their right and each of them knowing it. The problem with thinking you are strong is often the fact, you aren't.

Before the student could continue with his well thought out confrontational speech, Yin instantly appeared in front of him. Her palm grabbing the shocked kid's face and hurling him across the training field right into a wall, the sound of bones breaking quite audible.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Yin screamed as darkness began to writhe around her and she began charging.

The group of arrogant boys instantly broke under her manic visage and began to retreat, but there was no escape as Yin Laofeng began her hunt. A lot of the crowd had already dispersed while some observed the spectacle with bated breath and yet no one dared to assist the doomed children who had assaulted Yin Laofeng.

Another child cried in horror as his own shadow coiled around his legs, shattering them, leaving bloody stumps.

"Please, please I'm sorry okay? Please….help!" One of the boys pleaded, his voice breaking under all the sobbing. And yet Yin still closed the distance, anger boiling the darkness around her.

Kiara and Maeve stopped as the fight began. Well, to call it a fight would be very generous to one side. It was more of a massacre. Kiara winced as the audible cracking of bones could be heard when one boy smashed into the wall. Maeve sighed, feeling her partner's thoughts through their channel.

“She’s gonna kill them, isn’t she?”

“Yep.”

“And we have to stop her.”

“Correct.”

“Because we’re the responsible ones.”

“Because we’re the responsible ones, yes.”

Maeve sighed again, cracking her knuckles and rolling her shoulders. This would at least be entertaining. She could feel the crazy bitch’s alchemic drive from all the way over here, and it was immense. The thing linings of bone began to expand over her, forming her armor. “Go and save the idiots. I’ll stop crazy.”

Kiara nodded, moving quickly towards the crowd of horrified watchers. “You and you! Go get the injured ones and drag them to the med bay.” She snapped, pointing out two of the faster looking students. When they just looked at her incredulously, Kiara growled in frustration. “DO IT NOW, OR I’LL THROW YOU TO HER MYSELF!” She commanded, using alchemy to carry her voice. The two students, responding to both authority and fear, immediately jumped to action sprinting to grab the two injured and possibly dead boys. Shadows raced along side them, helping them gather up the bodies and begin pulling them away.

As Yin advanced on the terrified children, Maeve moved with a burst of alchemic speed and skidded to a stop in front of her. Her armor was covering everything except her face, and she gave a bright, fake, smile to Yin. “Now, now, you’ve proven your point. No need to beat up on those who can’t punch back. They’ve learned their lesson, so why don’t we take a step back and a deep breath, hmm?”

Yin's eyes hadn't even moved from the boys who cowered behind this new interloper. "This does not fucking concern you," she spoke while briefly glancing at the woman barring her judgement. Her fists clenching and her baleful gaze returning to the cowards. "These fucks assaulted me…..me!"

“Oh boy, you’re just full on the train to crazy town, aren’t ya?”

Yin screamed as she took a few steps forward. "The lesson has just started!" She spat while swearing in Chinese and striking the Asylum with an open palm sending a shockwave through her to strike at the students behind her.

Maeve stumbled backwards, grunting with the impact and grinning at the girl as her Ceannlann armor covered her face. Her eyes glowed with an emerald green light as her voice echoed out of the helmet. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She lunged forward with a cackle and swung at Yin’s face.

Behind her, Kiara cursed. “No, stop, WALL!” A barricade of earth shot up at the last second and took the brunt of the shockwave. Kiara breathed a sigh of relief before pointing at the terrified would-be assailants. “Get out of here! Go!” They didn’t need any more pushing. With the victims beginning to get out of the way, she could turn her attention to the main problem. “Okay, time for us to just relax, yeah?” She traced a symbol on the ground and chains of earth shot upwards towards Yin in an attempt to wrap her up.

" 你他妈的愚蠢的荡妇 " Yin swore at Kiara as she watched her prey escape and another interloper join the fray. The Asylum's sigils summonings chains of hardened earth to bind her only to shatter a moment later, giving Yin just enough time to side step the others strike.

"You think you saved them?" Yin spoke in English coated with her Chinese accent. "I know their faces, I know their classes, I know their dorms." She continued while readjusting her stance, one designed to fight multiple opponents. "You gave those fucks false hope!" The student had venom in her tone as she addressed the two Asylums, her gaze switching between the two as the darkness around her continued to writhe and slither.

“You do realize that this is the type of talk that gets students thrown in AMRO prisons, right?” Kiara called, beginning to draw another sigil in the ground.

“Does it sound like she cares?” Maeve snapped, bringing her fists up again.

"Way of the Lao, seventh stance" Yin mumbled softly as she finally became focused and managed to center herself. Her rage never dimmed but now she had it by the reigns, now she could direct it. Her left Palm facing Maeve who stood on the right and her right palm crossing her arm to face Kiara who stood at her left.

Then Yin Laofeng went on the offense, pivoting to ensure Maeve is between her and Kiara. Her palms a blur as she began working at her. Her striking style was similar to wingchun, though instead of punches she focused on open palm strikes that targeted internal organs or finger strikes at vulnerable points such as the joints, the eyes or the ears. Throughout the assault Yin's alchemic drive radiated calmly, despite revealing her monstrous potential she had yet to dip in it.

“Oh fuck, uh, way of the moving really fast!” Maeve called out, her form becoming a blur as her own speed increased and she dodged and deflected the strikes. The alchemic drive was only increasing in power, which was a major concern. Kiara cursed, unable to finish the sigil while Yin kept Maeve in the way.

“Why the hell is this kid so fast!” Maeve snarled as her counterpunch was dodged. Yin was moving faster than she had any right to be, especially with Maeve’s own alchemy involved. A finger jabbed her in the eye and, despite being blocked by the armor Maeve was wearing, it hurt like hell. An open palm hit her ribs and she stumbled backwards, gasping for breath “Fuck this!”

She leapt backwards out of range of the girl’s flailing strikes. “Ìre a trì!” The collar around her neck glowed a bright green. Maeve drew in a deep breath and then let out a scream at her opponent. A wall of sound rippled forward, tearing up the ground in between them as the scream raced towards Yin.

Kiara, seeing her chance, finished her sigil as the ground beneath Yin’s feet turned into quick sand and attempted to drag her down and hold her in place. She rapidly drew another one, sending a wall up behind Yin that shot in her direction to stun her.

Yin had anticipated the Asylum retreating, obviously she would and she had planned to follow up in order to bridge the distance to strike her heart. The armor would have absorbed most of the impact and the minor stroke would have been enough to incapacitate the annoying bitch.

"What the fuck!" Yin growled, before she could take a step forward to close the distance her stance was broken. Her dominant foot had sunk in the ground, breaking her equilibrium and before she could correct it the scream blasted her into the wall behind her, making her land amid the debris.

It took her a whole ten seconds to blast the debris apart, a wicked smile on her face as she spat out blood. She had forgotten her rage or rather she was now having far more fun and the anger now smoldered in her mind.

"You two...are very good team mates, strong too…..good...I can get a bit more serious," the girl replied with an enthusiastic smirk. Her stance had changed once more but this time instead of her palms spread out, it was her fists and then she vanished.

She reappeared inches before Maeve, headbutting her forehead despite the fact the Asylum had it encased in bone armor. The impact resulted in blood trickling down Yin's forehead. But now she understood the degree of strength this armor possessed.

"I really like your armor, your partner on the other hand…." As soon as those words finished Yin blurred and appeared in front of the sigil crafting support, her open palm slapping the woman's ear and the other reaching out to punch her throat.

Kiara’s cloak, shadow tail, whipped forward in a flash, blocking the punch. Kiara smiled, somewhat dazed from the first slap. The crazy student had some heat on her strikes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think that she was the only one who could stand toe to toe with someone in a fight? Sorry to disappoint kiddo.” She got quickly to her feet, settling into her own stance. She opened her connection with her partner, her eyes glowing emerald. “And you’re right, we are a good team! Let us show you.”

Maeve was behind Yin in a second, and the two banshees went on the offensive. Shadow Tail striking and moving with Kiara’s whims as Maeve’s heavily knuckled gauntlets struck in perfect tandem. It was a whirlwind of two minds working as one. Kiara muttered as she fought, making more quicksand and loose dirt beneath Yin to keep her from setting her stance.

This time Yin was prepared, having accounted for both the annoying gaelic warriors. They had spunk and uncanny team work but they hadn't the luxury of training in the ancient arts since you could stand. Yin jumped right before the two Asylums launched their simultaneous attacks, pivoting her torso to drive her elbow into Maeve's gauntlet to redirect it into Kiara's cloak. As soon as that maneuver ended she stomped both her feet on the ground, the motion transmuting it back into solid earth. Carrying the momentum from her jump, spin and stomp she pushed both her palms outwards in the direction of the two Asylums who stood on her left and right. A weak kinetic blast dispersed at the command straight into the Banshees allowing the student enough breathing room to shatter the charm around her neck and summon her own weapon. A large Chinese broadsword which in one smooth motion she parted into two. "Way of the Lao, twenty third stance."

“How many stances do you have, for fucks sake!”

"You may need another good team to balance it out," Yin scoffed as she observed the two with an almost manic hunger for battle before suddenly twirling with the blades. Both blades slicing through air and releasing a far more dangerous and sharper kinetic blast. The darkness around her continued to slither, almost dancing and yet Yin hadn't even bothered to summon it.

The Banshees began to be pushed backwards, swords scraping against bone and shadow as Laofeng went on the offensive. Step by step the two asylums were driven back, still working in tandem. The girl was good. A psychopath, but good. They were being pushed against the wall to the cafeteria.

Maeve took another step back as a broadsword scraped past her fist and cut against her helmet. “Enough!” She drew her fist back and upwards into the air, bringing it crashing down as Kiara’s shadow tail whipped over her head in a dark fist to strike at Yin. As Maeve’s fist hit the ground, a shockwave of energy rippled outwards to force Yin back.

"But the fun is just getting started!" Yin screamed gleefully as she crossed her broadswords to block shadowtail and then slice the air. Her blades like a scissor, shearing through the shockwave and dispersing most of the force. However the energy that trickled through struck her like a truck but the Laofeng powered through with sheer momentum. Her blades discarded as she charged maniacally and tackled both banshees right through a window.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile

I'm gonna have to withdraw, not enough time to focus on this RP. Thanks for the consideration!