Jamesyco

Against Blood Ridden Skies: A colony last stand group RP.

def interested, will look into more after I finish up some work.

Raven Squad (An Eccentric Military / Spy - Fi RP)

Oliver Black

For maybe, twenty minutes the man stared at the screen, the only words upon it, 'You Died' and he decided to take a shower to cool himself off after relaxing by himself and his computer for an indeterminate amount of time. Music had been coming from his room, Iron Maiden, Metallica, and other older metal bands, as well as some 'newer' stuff like Poor Mans Poison here and there. But, he decided to take a nice, hot shower to relax, and get himself hungry for a night snack. He moved things off of the bed he built, and onto his computer chair and desk. Finding an old T-shirt that fits him well, would be good to wear once I get out, it's comfortable and happy. He then lifted his drink, ginger ale, to his lips, and relaxed before he moved into the bathroom he had made for himself. Nice, and wooden, the way he liked it.

-Twenty minutes later-

The large wooden door which looked to be the blend of a North-western cowboy's door, and a nordic Vikings, steam came out from close to the floor, and out stepped a man. This man was known as Oliver, clothed in a white t-shirt with a smiley face upon it, baggy pants that may or may not be PJs, and flip flops. Around his neck was an old style of earphone connected by wire to a phone that rested upon his shoulder in a strap. Oliver's hair was formed in a towel around his head, and he smelled of whiskey and gunpowder, a man's favorite soap smell. His beard looked freshly cleaned up, oils included. Around him, Iron Maiden played until two dings came upon on his phone, he plugged it into his earphones so as to not annoy others and decided to make his way down the hallway.

Immediately he looked a bit like an idiot; he noticed that he was somewhat alone, but for those in the main room talking, he just went at it. Air guitar and all as he started down the hall slowly, his head moving back and forth, the towel slowly unraveling, and he gave a kick forward as he continued to play air instruments and being quite good at it in his mind. He was able to do solos of guitars, of which he did not know how to play. Drumming a bit here and there when the guitar let up for drums. He was singing as well in his thought of safety, mainly just the more available parts of the song, but still, it was a bit of singing.

"Run to the Hillsssssssssss." his hands would move back and forth like drums, "Run, for your, lives."

"Dum dum, dum dum." He muttered with the motions of him hitting drums, and his hair/towel flying back and forth.

"Run to the hillsss."

"Run, forrrr your, lives." his head stilled as he stopped halfway down the hallway; realizing that was mainly out loud, he fixed the towel around his head, moving it over his shoulders as his wet hair rested on either side of his neck. He would continue his pathway down towards the central area, and if it were not for his beard, there would possibly be red cheeks of slight embarrassment there. He would slowly make his way around the room, his destination the kitchen.

"I see whiskey; anyone wants something to go with it?" Oliver asked as his beeline for the kitchen was his newest priority. "I saw some new recipe online and thought I could give it a try, cause why not, it looked good, and I am hungry. Diets be damned, and the whiskey is out."

Raven Squad (An Eccentric Military / Spy - Fi RP)

Oliver Black

Name: Oliver Black

Age: 34

Appearance: A massive, stout man, he is the embodiment of a corn-fed American farm boy. He stands at around six-seven and weighs around two sixty of working muscle. With his current size, he is a beacon to whoever sees him and can easily be spotted within a crowd. He has blue eyes, a long weaved darker blonde/light brown hair, and a lighter skin tone. His face has a scar over his right eye from his previous work. And at the moment, he sports a long beard, and hair that is usually braided with beads in a style like the Vikings.

His body is just a slab of working muscle, he doesn't tone himself for the abs. His arms and legs look like muscled logs, and his hands are massive. This man does not skip his protein shakes, his slim jim, or any day at the gym. Will it catch up to him later in life, give it ten years and his knees are probably gonna need replacing.

He only has three tattoos, one is a bolt of lightning that connects his six prior body/leg wounds as if the wounds were connecting rods. The other is a small list of names over the back right shoulder. The last one is a tramp stamp that is a Celtic weave with the name Tiny in the middle of it. He typically tries to hide it, but clothing that is not made for his size specifically, it will typically show.

When outside of operation, either he wears tailor suits to nicer places, or whatever he could buy at the local store that fit him, usually sweats and a very tight t-shirt. Within operations, he usually wears something to go with his exo-suit, usually some form of fatigues or uniform that fits the environment they are currently in. So even if the exosuit fell, he would still be prepared to thrive.



Nationality: American

Callsign: Tiny Nord

Skills:

The Armored Doc - Growing up as a medic before his new life, he has been in many situations where he has needed to save lives as well as take them. He has not lost anyone who could be saved to the date, and paired with an armored suit. He does not only save lives, he takes them with brutal efficiency.

The mechanic - Machines work like bodies, fluids keep it running and well oiled, and joints make movement possible. He knows his machine well, the electronics inside, he knows how to use, but not how to fix. While he is mechanically inclined, he works with his hands and prefers it that way, coding and advanced electronics are not his specialties.

Airborne - His traditional method of insertion is by the air, he has made his suit drop worth from a range of altitudes. But, he has an arresting hook available for exfil as well. But, even if this one's chute doesn't open, the saying 'he ain't gonna jump no more,' doesn't apply to him. Getting to his love of the airborne also allowed him to learn French, German, Polish, Estonian, Dutch, and Russian.

Warrior Priest - Being a bit of a nerd, he looks at himself as a paladin from dungeons and dragons, one who can heal, or do a bit of damage. A protector of his friends and such, he wears as much armor as possible and carries as much as he can to both hurt and heal. In some cases, he will even bring a shield that he can lock onto his arm, using it both as a stabilizer for heavier weapons, and extra armor from heavier weapons.

History: Born in the middle of Montana, he grew up in the middle of nowhere on some farm with a bunch of siblings. He looked like all of those who came before him, blue eyes, blondish hair, and covered in it as well, having to shave on a daily to keep clean-shaven. But after nearly failing high school, he took a year off and went to community college, while there he became a pre-med major. At that time, he was also being approached by the United States Army, and soon would fall in line with them, dropping out of school.

He took the MOS as a combat medic, he wanted to try and continue his current studies so he could have a job after leaving the military, he thought a contract and done would be all he was doing, but he was wrong. In basic, he turned out to be a good soldier, nearly breaking several records, and generally doing good. Once in his training school, he would make his way to the top of his class. So, he got to choose where he was going to go, and from that moment he would start down a route of trying to be the best.

He said he wanted to be a part of the best, and he was given a chance to start his schooling to become a ranger, air assault, airborne, EOD, and engineering. He would take as much as possible to become a part of the best, and he did well with each school he went to. His first unit, although he had the patch, was a cavalry reconnaissance unit. He was not happy with this posting, but he did gain experience from it. With that experience, he would grow in his military service, becoming an NCO after several years. And when he turned twenty-six, he would finally get his goal.

He would become a part of the rangers, a full ranger in both banner and regiment. This fit him well, and one of his favorite things to do was repel from helicopters, and jump from planes when he was able to for both fun, and to keep his certifications. He loved jumping from planes, and it was everything he wanted. He would continue with this for almost seven years, working with vehicles, saving those around him, and making himself one of the best combat medics, if not the best. He would continue until, in his final year working there, he would get what earned his place in the Raven Squad. In his last fight before he was honorably (medical) discharged.

He and the patrol he was a part of were ambushed, taking heavy losses in the initial encounter including four wounds to his left leg, a wound that temporarily blinded him in his right eye, and two on his torso. Outnumbered, he and the seven others that were still in fighting conditions held off over four hundred assailants for three hours until reinforcements were able to arrive. In total, out of the forty-five people who came, thirty-seven survived, although most were in critical condition and three of the assaulters were also taken into care for he was not able to distinguish some fine in his temporary blindness.

Personality: He looks like a massive teddy bear, there is a smile on his face usually and he had a generally good outlook on life. He finds his available time with plenty of hobbies (From dnd to cars and everything in between), or at the gym. He usually likes to plan as much as possible, having itineraries and such for where ever he goes. But he is rather carefree but in moments that are dire. He will also go out of his way to save or improve the lives of others, he takes his role of being a 'paladin' to heart.

Tactical Suit:
Built off an older model of Russian Ratnik armor due to his size not allowing him in more standardized suits currently in use, he has added a better hydraulics system to the suit's exoskeleton form for better maneuverability and a higher weight load. With that, he has updated the armor and added upon that armor with larger thicker plates to survive most small arms fire for extended periods of time. The battery life is about twelve hours before it has to be recharged or replaced..

The left-arm has a functional part that can attach to a modified armored plate that acts as a shield. His back has an armored crate with slots to carry plenty of supplies. Typically this will be ammunition, food, and medical supplies. A small solar panel to charge the batteries and two spare batteries. It does have three slots for heavier weapons, such as missile tubes, heavy machine guns, or a recoilless rifle. The back plate of the crate is lined with grenades for the second person in the stack.

It is usually covered in paintings that are a halfway point between norse and Celtic line styles.


Base Armor

Weapons: (As set out in the prior selection- though this can be changed if you like. This isn't strict for what class can carry what- but a light shouldn't carry more than two long weapons, a medium more than three, while a heavy alone has access to heavy weapons and a wider range of secondaries)

Possible heavy weapons
Recoilless rifles (MAAWS / SPG-9 / Other Older weapons systems)

Heavy Machine guns (M2 Browning or other weapons of similar size)

Rocket/Missile systems (Javelin / LAW rocket / Other equivalents)

Standard rifle

FN 7.62x51n Mk-18 Battle Rifle

Secondaries
Royal Remington 870 express 3 round breaching shotgun
Winchester Model 1887 shotgun
FN 5.7 pistol
LeMat revolver
Marlin Model 1895SBL
M4A1 Assault Carbine

Equipment (Yours to pick- be mindful of their specialization and class.)
Tac-Axe (2h)
Knife
Fragmentation grenades - x4 front x10 back plate
Flashbang grenades - x3 front x6 back
Smoke grenades - x2 front (white) x4 back (white) x1 (red) x1 (blue)
Flairs / IR probes - 2 boxes of various, 6 flairs ready, 4 IR probes
Multi-vision NVGs
Arresting hook for exfil
Parachute/Stabilizer for infil
60 composite armor shield
Triage and mass stabilization kit
Ammunition boxes (depends on others)

Hobbies:
Dungeons and Dragons
Sky Diving
Football
Video Games
Drinking
Church
Being a nerd
Writing
Gym
Old Time arcades

Likes:
Old Styles of Beer (not that new stuff with all the fancy flavors)
Old Video games and dice games
Farming/Farm Animals
Nordic stuff
Cowboys

Dislikes:
Communists
Socialists
Deep Water
Old Wooden Bridges

Raven Squad (An Eccentric Military / Spy - Fi RP)

Oliver Black

Name: Oliver Black

Age: 34

Appearance: A massive, stout man, he is the embodiment of a corn-fed American farm boy. He stands at around six-seven and weighs around two sixty of working muscle. With his current size, he is a beacon to whoever sees him and can easily be spotted within a crowd. He has blue eyes, a long weaved darker blonde/light brown hair, and a lighter skin tone. His face has a scar over his right eye from his previous work. And at the moment, he sports a long beard, and hair that is usually braided with beads in a style like the Vikings.

His body is just a slab of working muscle, he doesn't tone himself for the abs. His arms and legs look like muscled logs, and his hands are massive. This man does not skip his protein shakes, his slim jim, or any day at the gym. Will it catch up to him later in life, give it ten years and his knees are probably gonna need replacing.

He only has three tattoos, one is a bolt of lightning that connects his six prior body/leg wounds as if the wounds were connecting rods. The other is a small list of names over the back right shoulder. The last one is a tramp stamp that is a Celtic weave with the name Tiny in the middle of it. He typically tries to hide it, but clothing that is not made for his size specifically, it will typically show.

When outside of operation, either he wears tailor suits to nicer places, or whatever he could buy at the local store that fit him, usually sweats and a very tight t-shirt. Within operations, he usually wears something to go with his exo-suit, usually some form of fatigues or uniform that fits the environment they are currently in. So even if the exosuit fell, he would still be prepared to thrive.



Nationality: American

Callsign: Tiny Nord

Skills:

The Armored Doc - Growing up as a medic before his new life, he has been in many situations where he has needed to save lives as well as take them. He has not lost anyone who could be saved to the date, and paired with an armored suit. He does not only save lives, he takes them with brutal efficiency.

The mechanic - Machines work like bodies, fluids keep it running and well oiled, and joints make movement possible. He knows his machine well, the electronics inside, he knows how to use, but not how to fix. While he is mechanically inclined, he works with his hands and prefers it that way, coding and advanced electronics are not his specialties.

Airborne - His traditional method of insertion is by the air, he has made his suit drop worth from a range of altitudes. But, he has an arresting hook available for exfil as well. But, even if this one's chute doesn't open, the saying 'he ain't gonna jump no more,' doesn't apply to him. Getting to his love of the airborne also allowed him to learn French, German, Polish, Estonian, Dutch, and Russian.

Warrior Priest - Being a bit of a nerd, he looks at himself as a paladin from dungeons and dragons, one who can heal, or do a bit of damage. A protector of his friends and such, he wears as much armor as possible and carries as much as he can to both hurt and heal. In some cases, he will even bring a shield that he can lock onto his arm, using it both as a stabilizer for heavier weapons, and extra armor from heavier weapons.

History: Born in the middle of Montana, he grew up in the middle of nowhere on some farm with a bunch of siblings. He looked like all of those who came before him, blue eyes, blondish hair, and covered in it as well, having to shave on a daily to keep clean-shaven. But after nearly failing high school, he took a year off and went to community college, while there he became a pre-med major. At that time, he was also being approached by the United States Army, and soon would fall in line with them, dropping out of school.

He took the MOS as a combat medic, he wanted to try and continue his current studies so he could have a job after leaving the military, he thought a contract and done would be all he was doing, but he was wrong. In basic, he turned out to be a good soldier, nearly breaking several records, and generally doing good. Once in his training school, he would make his way to the top of his class. So, he got to choose where he was going to go, and from that moment he would start down a route of trying to be the best.

He said he wanted to be a part of the best, and he was given a chance to start his schooling to become a ranger, air assault, airborne, EOD, and engineering. He would take as much as possible to become a part of the best, and he did well with each school he went to. His first unit, although he had the patch, was a cavalry reconnaissance unit. He was not happy with this posting, but he did gain experience from it. With that experience, he would grow in his military service, becoming an NCO after several years. And when he turned twenty-six, he would finally get his goal.

He would become a part of the rangers, a full ranger in both banner and regiment. This fit him well, and one of his favorite things to do was repel from helicopters, and jump from planes when he was able to for both fun, and to keep his certifications. He loved jumping from planes, and it was everything he wanted. He would continue with this for almost seven years, working with vehicles, saving those around him, and making himself one of the best combat medics, if not the best. He would continue until, in his final year working there, he would get what earned his place in the Raven Squad. In his last fight before he was honorably (medical) discharged.

He and the patrol he was a part of were ambushed, taking heavy losses in the initial encounter including four wounds to his left leg, a wound that temporarily blinded him in his right eye, and two on his torso. Outnumbered, he and the seven others that were still in fighting conditions held off over four hundred assailants for three hours until reinforcements were able to arrive. In total, out of the forty-five people who came, thirty-seven survived, although most were in critical condition and three of the assaulters were also taken into care for he was not able to distinguish some fine in his temporary blindness.

Personality: He looks like a massive teddy bear, there is a smile on his face usually and he had a generally good outlook on life. He finds his available time with plenty of hobbies (From dnd to cars and everything in between), or at the gym. He usually likes to plan as much as possible, having itineraries and such for where ever he goes. But he is rather carefree but in moments that are dire. He will also go out of his way to save or improve the lives of others, he takes his role of being a 'paladin' to heart.

Tactical Suit:
Built off an older model of Russian Ratnik armor due to his size not allowing him in more standardized suits currently in use, he has added a better hydraulics system to the suit's exoskeleton form for better maneuverability and a higher weight load. With that, he has updated the armor and added upon that armor with larger thicker plates to survive most small arms fire for extended periods of time. The battery life is about twelve hours before it has to be recharged or replaced..

The left-arm has a functional part that can attach to a modified armored plate that acts as a shield. His back has an armored crate with slots to carry plenty of supplies. Typically this will be ammunition, food, and medical supplies. A small solar panel to charge the batteries and two spare batteries. It does have three slots for heavier weapons, such as missile tubes, heavy machine guns, or a recoilless rifle. The back plate of the crate is lined with grenades for the second person in the stack.

It is usually covered in paintings that are a halfway point between norse and Celtic line styles.


Base Armor

Weapons: (As set out in the prior selection- though this can be changed if you like. This isn't strict for what class can carry what- but a light shouldn't carry more than two long weapons, a medium more than three, while a heavy alone has access to heavy weapons and a wider range of secondaries)

Possible heavy weapons
Recoilless rifles (MAAWS / SPG-9 / Other Older weapons systems)

Heavy Machine guns (M2 Browning or other weapons of similar size)

Rocket/Missile systems (Javelin / LAW rocket / Other equivalents)

Standard rifle

FN 7.62x51n Mk-18 Battle Rifle

Secondaries
Royal Remington 870 express 3 round breaching shotgun
Winchester Model 1887 shotgun
FN 5.7 pistol
LeMat revolver
Marlin Model 1895SBL
M4A1 Assault Carbine

Equipment (Yours to pick- be mindful of their specialization and class.)
Tac-Axe (2h)
Knife
Fragmentation grenades - x4 front x10 back plate
Flashbang grenades - x3 front x6 back
Smoke grenades - x2 front (white) x4 back (white) x1 (red) x1 (blue)
Flairs / IR probes - 2 boxes of various, 6 flairs ready, 4 IR probes
Multi-vision NVGs
Arresting hook for exfil
Parachute/Stabilizer for infil
60 composite armor shield
Triage and mass stabilization kit
Ammunition boxes (depends on others)

Hobbies:
Dungeons and Dragons
Sky Diving
Football
Video Games
Drinking
Church
Being a nerd
Writing
Gym
Old Time arcades

Likes:
Old Styles of Beer (not that new stuff with all the fancy flavors)
Old Video games and dice games
Farming/Farm Animals
Nordic stuff
Cowboys

Dislikes:
Communists
Socialists
Deep Water
Old Wooden Bridges

Raven Squad : (An Eccentric Military / Spy-Fi RP)

I'm down for that heavy male slot.

Relics of the First Age

Eisen

---

North Gate

---

The man simply kept moving forward, he wanted to see something, yet he has forgotten, and would follow the crowd. He did hear scream but did not pick up on them until he felt some quicker movement in the crowd to which once again, he stopped like a giant pillar of a pier against a tide of people as the word, 'magic' was yelled out behind him. He did not care for such words as his people still used the old ways or at least some of them. He did use, 'magic' as well although it was a simpler thing than what she had done, it was still potent for what it touched.

Eisen looked back at the scene unfolding behind him, as the crowd began to sway some and move away from where the man cried wolf, this was possibly going to be an exciting turn of events for him and those around him that he was not aware of yet, and he continued to look around at the crowd until he set of eyes that lead between him and the girl he had not cared to track within the crowd. It most be her parent, good, she could stop bugging him. He nodded to the face and turned once again to get further down the street with the new vigor that struck the crowd's direction.

This, this was going to be a long day he thought, first some girl was being mean with him for some unknown reason, then some loud and obviously unwelcome men were being hassled by the local authorities, but there was one bright side to this, a girl had found her mother by using him as a massive beacon in the mass of people. He had done his good service for the day, unannounced to him, she was likely begging, being a lure, or pickpocketing helpless individuals. Thankfully for his height, and his desire to his personal belongings in personal areas, he and his things, were safe from such pests.

There was cheering off in the distance, that he knew was where he was meaning to go, with the gate to his back and the lives of those in front of him, he started walking a quick pace, he wanted to see what it was, people would not stop them, in such quantity they were fluid and he was a shark pushing through it determined to reach its the destination, the crowd to him was the blood in the water. He smelled the city's stink around him and it was intoxicating with the terrible ferociousness that it had, he hated and loved it as it meant people were about, weak people, those that he could best and prove himself to some beautiful woman, he could fight and kill those weak men that thought themselves strong. Or, was he thinking too far ahead, was he being cocky and ambitious in his newfound youth outside of his motherland, far away from his home.

Then, one last thought came into his mind as he kept walking away from the part of the city he had seen, the only part he got to at that point, a small area just inside of a gateway. He was forsaking himself, he did not care about any of that, he cared about the crowds screaming in excitement. That is what he wanted to see, he wanted to see why, why people cheered and screamed at the top of their lungs. Was it some bout, some festival, it certainly wasn't a circus-like the one he left behind him.

@josephb@psych0pomp

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Ahgnemir the Northern Lord

Name: Ahgnemir Thordemir Ehgnarlothna Porganiga
Nicknames: The Northern Lord - His homeworld
(generic cute furry animal(s)) - Brothers/Family
The Bear - Those who meet him can't say his name, so they say, Lord, typically will call him this behind his/Astartes/family's back.
Dwarf - When people want a fight
Gender: Male



Homeworld: Nova Chatti
This is a frozen hell hole of a world. The only livable area is the tundra to the north of the ice flats and the frozen oceans to the south. This livable zone is tiny but brimming with life; humans live in small settlements, usually surrounded by wards, or under the lone mountain on one of the southern Coastal planes. Food is usually grown inside caves or comes from the different animals which inhabit the planet. Some have the luxury of heading to the south side of the planet, which has a migratory fisherman tribe, but the Northmen do not believe these people are real as the trek to the planet's non-frozen side is deadly, and few survive the trip to or from. The planet also has a high gravity, meaning jump packs and grav-vehicles are useless upon its surface.

But on average, they live within a two-mile radius of where they are born; the men typically do not travel more than several miles outside the warded zones. Few travel during a war, and typically it is settled on a field by throwing spears across it until a single individual was hit. Then the winner was decided, but when the wife taking and ritual slaughter came, it was almost a one-sided battle every time. The attackers usually had complete surprise over the defenders. But in some cases, the defenders do prevail.

But there are six major tribes and fifty-six minor ones. The Capitol under Inn Mountain, or Icebrook Fortress, is expansive in population compared to the surface settlements. It also has the largest clans, the clan of the North Lord, which encompasses the adopted children of the Primarch (orphans), the family of the primarch (brothers and all), and the Astartes. In the family's case, each is worshiped like walking and living gods sent to protect them from the creatures that walk the planet.

Appearance: At ten feet, he is likely one of the shortest of the Primarchs, but out of size and musculature, he is likely one of the largest as even bare; he can withstand colds most Astartes could not. He is squat and built out rather than up. His musculature shows him as a man of craft and war. It is similar to what you would find in northern latitudes a few hundred years ago, it conserves heat and is a natural body shape, but in a primaries form, it is exaggerated. His sons do not share this quality and are much like standard Astartes in height. There is a thick hair layer covering most of his body but for parts such as his hands, upper face, portions of the neck, and feet. But this is typically shaven off on a regular as it deviates too far from the standard.

His face is rather not the greatest looking; once, he would have been a beautiful man in almost perfect resemblance to his father, but fighting the beasts of his world, it was left in ruins of its former self. Most of it did heal, and you can see the resemblance of a once beautiful man, but that is faded behind torn scars and broken bones that never set correctly. He is typically seen with a mask or a veil over his face.

His hair and facial hair do poke out from the edges of it and typically is braided in some fashion to show its volume and density, but also the trophy beads and bone that hang from his hair. If you peer closely, there is a silver gem upon a bone necklace below the beard.

His attire out of battle is typically that of thick robes covered in runes or animal skins that fit different roles from basic pants to a runeforge apron.

In battle, he wears a suit of white mail over light power armor. In favor of a helmet, he wears a white veil and cloak in alpine and snow environments; it suits well to blend into the environment. It is also covered by runes, of course, which help this unnatural chameleon effect.

Personality:
Humans come first - He is humane to those human worlds he finds, striving to find and bring all non majorly mutated humans back into the fold of a human empire. He strives to look as human as possible; this includes changing his appearance by shaving and making-up to hide anything that makes him seem animal-like, such as the thick hair that covers most of his body.

Pseudo-Religious - He believes there is something that comes from the warp, and he senses it; he does not know how and is relatively unaware of the power he holds in the warp. He creates runes and wards to keep demons and other malignant spirits at bay. To his knowledge, this works. His father says there is nothing but the known world, but he knows something terrible is out there, and it tries to call to him and those around him.

Partially Xeno phobic - even though extensive testing has been done on races such as the Eldar, he believes them to be human. This is due to their appearance and their gestures towards him. They are just slightly mutated in his eyes, but when you begin to deviate away from human, growing tails and extra parts when you're a definite mutant, that is when you become alien to him. He hates those aliens who can think but do not look like humans. They did not try to match humanity's greatness and must be destroyed for it. But, he does have a love for the nature of planets, trying to preserve them in any way possible inside of his fleets.

Nature-loving - He hates the industrial look of many imperial worlds; the large cities and spires drive him insane. This also puts him at odds with most mechanicum agents. The few who do enjoy his presence primarily focus on biological machines rather than metal ones. He does enjoy some mechaniucum friends, however, but that is because their machines are oddly beautiful for something made of metal.

Assistantless - His culture, or at least his original tribe took no servants or slaves; this became widespread after his ascension to the lordship of the planet. The small tribal feuds would end in some forced marriages, but the marriage was more than man and wife, as the two had to support each other to survive. Typically several wives were taken for different tasks within a homestead. The husband would provide food, and material for the homestead, while the wives kept it orderly and maintained. If either failed, the homestead would likely fail because of the planet's detrimental effects. He does have several wives, but he does not consider them servants, even though that is pretty much what they are.

Humanist - Astartes, even though super-soldiers should be human, he believes no Astarte is better than any man; he encourages them to seek human emotion and lifestyles outside of their warrior clades. To keep in touch with family, and to start their own. If possible, bring a sister or brother along. Their children with foreign world populations may help the future Astartes surge as their homeworld can only have so many people upon its natural landscapes. He is trying to find a way to have children with women himself; in secret, this is done much like modern artificial insemination, but it is why some of his previous wives are dead.

Calm - Compared to his gene family, he is considered calm between each of them, rarely angering and taking things slowly and methodically for a barbaric culture he lived in. Rarely does he lash out, to the point where one of his wives, when angry with him during the reunification with his blood father, had struck him so many times she had managed to break the mask he was wearing that day. He had stopped his father from striking the woman down as well, as she was a part of him due to their binds in marriage. But, when focused on a man who had disgraced a wife of one of his sons, the man was tortured publically.

Skills:
He is a wonderful forge smith and rune crafter, leaving a little bit of himself and his soul (literally) with everything he crafts. His works are beautiful, flowing, and natural, using resources found upon the places he travels as the world(s) are for humanities taking, as that is how things naturally should be.

In warfare, he specializes in guerrilla and shock infantry tactics. Alpine, Cities, Forests, and Arctic regions are his primary locals for his favored tactics. Outside of these environments, his tactics are a baseline for a Primarch's martial abilities.

The cold has little to no effect on him as if it does not matter at all. He has been noted fasting in the below zero icefields of his homeland, meditating in runic circles. Even when some could touch him in his meditation state, he would feel like a fire burning, yet he would barely melt the snow with his body temperature. The longest he has been out being one month, but that was when he asked to come inside by someone dear to him.

Runeforger - His runes, although they are warp-based, are master crafted and unique. Each one is a beautiful sign which has its purpose, but with this. He leaves a little bit of his soul and blood inside each rune he crafts, as he believes that is what wards off the evil spirits and monsters that infest his planet and warp while traveling.

Assignment Grade: Beta - Rune Forger, with his homeworld in proximity to the largest Warpstorm that has persisted, the first primarch was granted power from beings beyond his knowledge. They placed him upon his world, and he felt the world around him but did not know-how; those who took him in told him of Runes and Warding away evil spirits. He does not know/believe he is a psyker, but those runes he crafts typically do as they're intended to do. But he also refuses to believe that it is anything but his natural abilities as a primarch and that anyone can learn his ways. This is primarily out of ignorance.

Biography:

Before the emperor, upon his entry into Nova Chatti's atmosphere, he had sailed across the solar system Suebi for a month before landing upon its frozen surface. With this time, the Eye's warp energies and the sun's radiation have created a hotbed for warp energy to spawn and manifest. Luckily for him, his reentry had warded off much of the chaotic spirits trying to bury themselves inside his memories. He had landed inside of a settlement near the northern pole of New Chatti. His body had adapted to the planet quickly, his infant state growing thick hair across his body and adapting rapidly to the cold.

By the time he was a teenager, he had been left on accident once outside. He was magnificent, but his neglectful adopted parents were surprised in his survival; they placed an amulet around his neck, which was toward him when away from home. Something which can withstand below zero temperatures could not be taken by the spirits that lurked beyond the totem wall. Thankfully, the teenager had grown up well within the mile or so of his birth.

His fifteenth sutensday was a surprise when his rather isolated village was attacked by a neighboring village, having never left home. He was told to hide while the men fought as if he was found, the women would be slaughtered as well. He was still an outsider, and he was a bad omen for several surrounding tribes due to his height. He could have easily passed for a giant by this age, but unluckily for him, he would not grow much taller as an adult. But the opposing tribe, the Inn, would be victorious, and the village would be ransacked for women and children to add as slaves. He was luckily never found.

When he left, he found a spear, not that of his adopted father, but it was a spear of his tribe, then set out to hunt those who had destroyed his home and the safety of his home. Reaching out beyond the totem wall, he found nothing but howling wind and bloody snow that tracked for miles.

This he would follow, for days and nights he did. Stalking through the barren snow wasteland behind the Inn and what was left of his people, they eventually reached a mountain. This mountain was built upon a cave system, one which the Inn resided in. It was massive and coated by a fungus that lived on the roof and illuminated the typically frozen and dark planet. As the ice turned black, he had made his move into the cave system, to which his slaughter had begun.

A day later, the Inn's last was under his banner; they had barricaded themselves in with the slaves and had such become slaves themselves. Instead of making them slaves, he decided to free each one inside and create a new tribe, one that would rule over the area's surrounding the mountain. The tribe of the Northern Lord was born, and it waged war upon tribe after tribe. Until it conquered the entire world, or what was habitable on the world, some two hundred miles of land spanned to the North of the Mountain.

By the time he was eighteen, he had five wives. One for each month of the year, but this was primarily to clean his home, cook for him and his guests, finance his home and life, and two for political reasons. After two years of constant war, he decided that it was enough for him. He had been raised in a decent home, violence was rare, and until the Inn had come for his people, he had seen death twice before that moment. After that, he had committed thousands of acts of violence on those who wished to be left alone, those who wished to worship those creatures that stalked the lands, and those who wanted to fight for their independence. Typically those cultures he had destroyed left some imprint on that of the Mountain Inn. Servants and slavery were outlawed. Instead, all house duties should be done by wives and such; this was to help improve population growth to rekindle some form of life on the planet after the wars that had raged upon its small surface frozen.

After his reunion with his father, the gene stock which had been dwindling was likely to stay dwindling as the radiation and warp energies that had been imbued within him made it hard for those who wished to become an Astartes of the first legion. It is not that the gene-seed was corrupted by chaos, but it did make the likely hood of death over fifty percent. Most initiates would die from their first treatment. Those who become warriors in the legion are typically from the southern lowlands where he was 'born and raised.

The legion was devastated; by reunion with his first sons, they were down to several thousand. A genetic defect that almost had the legion erased had made it to where the stock would at first create a perfect astartes with all organs available. Still, soon after, it would turn them into blubbery mutants, their mind staying intact as they watched themselves turn into an abomination. With the primarch in hand, the geneseed did flourish, but the ability to create and Astarte was hard. Few outsides of his homeworld were able to take the geneseed, but when it was applied successfully, it created that astartes with little genetic difference to their cousins but for a thicker hide and a light fur. There would be another defect, which would come in the geneseed, which in some cases would seek out its next host rather than the ones who completed trials.

These souls are called the Chosen and are typically seen with a bloody hand upon their face rather than their shoulder, as that is where the primarch can touch them in their medicae bed before their surgery. They are primarily souls that will become runepriests; they are typically psykers who wish to follow in their fathers' footsteps of rune crafting. They spend one full on their father's flagship before being sent back to the tribe (company) they came from.

Several years after he departed from his father, his legion had ten thousand soldiers ready. He began his conquest, looking for more lost souls along the fringes of the Imperium. Trying to bring them back into the fold of humanity, there would be a slow process as they wish to document everything, usually leaving a handful of Astartes behind to oversee the world's compliance. Their families would intermingle with the local population, forming another tribe from which the legion recruit from in the future.

There was one battle of significance that the Primarch had fought in. This was again an arthropod species that inhabited a lost human world; the humans were still alive but had primarily lived in small settlements that acted like watch posts for the only living hive upon the planet. The bugs were on one of their final assaults when the Astartes arrived. Ten days of constant fighting raged on as his legion and the army units tied to his fleet drove the bug creatures into caves, which the Astartes would then assault again. On the thirtieth day of fighting, the ground broke up to reveal the queen, and about between it and the primarch ensued. The skull of the Queen can still be seen in Icebrook Fortress upon his homeworld. Over several days, this fight was said to be the Astartes and primarch fighting the spawn which the queen was laying during the fight.


The Meeting:

The Northern Lord sat at the feasting halls, looking over the different chieftains, their wives, warriors, and friends. He had been eating with them for more than two hours, conversing with those near him as his wives went around serving the different guests that had arrived. He was going to make sure they were all happy and sound. He had just conquered the last people on the Northmen and was thinking of journeying south to see those in the ocean once again.

Ahgnemir stood; he was going to give the final round of the night, his flagon held high above his head as something peered into his soul. The flagon soon fell to the table. Gasps, awe, and wails had filled the room as the giant man held his head and dropped to the ground in a spasm. Something was coming. He felt it surge through his head, and he screamed out as he clawed his way to his feet before leaving the room, heading to his chambers for solitude. Those he left in the room were on the floor now as an echo of his soul had screamed to each one of them. It was maddening; for a moment, they felt the pain he did, but it was gone within a second.

The five women close to him were crying; they had felt it the most as he is the second it took them, had felt everything. He had called out for their help in this, and they only fell themselves. They felt him locked inside their bed-chamber and felt his pain through the door and the city. For a week, this would continue; the guests became the caretakers to the five women outside the door to their husbands' rooms. Feeding them, and keeping them alive, listening to the murmurs and words from their lips. Wards and shrines had been placed around them to protect them. But the words still came, and they began to sound like the Northern Lords' works were coming from their lips.

On the fifth day and the end of the planetary week, he came out, and the women fell exhausted. He stared at those in awe of him.

"The gods are coming... Find me a cart... I will take them with me..."

An hour later, the five women were upon a cart being pushed down the streets. Behind him, those who had attended the feast, and behind them, a line of souls wandered behind them. Falling behind as the end of the precession has passed them or joining in on the flanks. Outside the entrance of the cave, a lone figure stood in gold. Ahgnemir stared at the figure and moved away from the cart towards the man. He knew this is where the voices in his head were coming from; he knew he was safe from then on. His hands extended out to either side of him, bowing was not in his culture, but embracing was. He would embrace his father; tears wept from his eyes and fell frozen upon the snow beneath them.

His father, the one he was taken from, was there for him. This was the god he had seen in his dreams and vision, the one he had asked for help and guidance. He felt this power around his neck in the ward he hung from it. He took a step back and stared at the man in front of him. He saw a face he had not seen in a long time, one that was similar to the one he wore as a child, a teen, and a young adult. But no, this face was not his; he wore this man's face. He was ashamed to have to let his face become so scared and destroyed at that moment. He had destroyed perfection, the perfect man. He turned and saw his first wife awaken.

"Father... My... Father, I am sorry I could not show you more grace and pageantry, but my people welcome you... That is my first wife, Boudica, the Warrior Queen of this world. We wish to welcome you and invite you to our home."

"First... Son..." The Emperor spoke, "turn, and face your sons."

Behind the Emperor stood ten giants, men in silver Mark II armor, that of the first legion, the Dawn-Breakers. His first sons of blood, he realized that he had a connection with these men too, the Emperor overshadowed it, but now that they had his attention, he too felt a connection with them. They are what he and his wives had always wanted, sons, powerful sons. The first captain, Ellion, took a step toward his grandfather and embraced him. Just like what he had done with the Emperor. The crowd silent. This was something unheard of to them; it was a sight that was amazing and almost indescribable. Godly, that was a good term to describe it, godly. They watched the gods that walked among them, meeting.

Ahgnemir embraced each of his sons and turned to his people and slowly awakening wives, "Feast yourselves... gorge your bodies of food, a new Era has come for us, and these are the messengers of progress! We will join them in the stars!"

Hours had passed, and the feast hall could not contain the number of people feasting in his home had expanded his capacity, so the regiments of soldiers that were with the emperor, as well as those of the first legion, were set up outside the cave entrances that lead under the mountain. The food stores were gone within hours, and more were coming in. The feast lasted an entire day, but the day after began the induction into the Imperium of Man.

He was brought aboard the Emperor's flagship, and samples were taken from him. These would improve the gene-seed stock of the legion and help create the next generation of the newly dubbed, Bloody Hands. A name forged from one of the ceremonial rituals, which had connected Ellion to Ahgnemir, where they cut open their palms and embraced each other, the handprint being placed upon the captain's shoulder pad over the old symbol, which still lingers upon Ellion's armor today, under the blood of his father. It can be seen inside the Warriors' chamber upon the flagship of the Legion, the Crimson Arm.

Soon enough after that, he and what was left of his legion were off with the Emperor to wage war on another planet in the system which was inhabited by drukhari raiders and the human slaves captured from his homeworld; he had never fought them or known about them in his time living on the planet.

Legion XVIII – Bloodly Hands

Legion XVIII – Bloody Hands

Legion Number: XVIII

Legion Strength: 40k- average, most 60k~, current 45k, deficient genestock/donor capability due to location
Each Tribe (company) is done by the bloodlines and the wave of recruitment, some companies have gone extinct, and their flags are held in both the fortress and the legion's flagship. The smallest company is around fifty 'Elder' Astartes; the largest is around three thousand.

Armor Appearance :

For The Emperor, for Ahgnemir, for Man

The primary armor will be Mark II Crusade Armor, their elite holes Mark III. Mark IV is slowly being brought into service with the first legion, but they are scarce and usually reserved for Veterans.

High Legion Officers, First Company, and the Various Priests usually have white instead of red and red instead of white. Their robes have a pure and unnatural white with runic wards and inscriptions in Horigahn.

Their iconography varies from company to company, but each one will have a white hand inside it. Typically, this is placed upon an Astartes armor when inducted in by a chaplain and then the Primarch when they arrive in the fleet with him.

The chosen, however, is always done by the Primarch first and will receive their iconography from him upon their induction into the ranks of Astartes. It will be placed over their face on their helmets.

Dramatis Personae:
Boudica the Warrior Queen - Mother of the Chapter and husband of the Northern Lord. She, even though extremely old, has had rejuvenating surgeries to prolong her lifespan. She is the caretaker to the primarch and servant to her sons. She is aided by the other two living wives of the Primarch, Gurtra, and Lolnamia. As well as the 'wives' and siblings brought along by the genesons of the primarch.

First Captain Tenebrus - First captain, one of the first Astartes in the legion, and the second Astartes to meet and embrace their primarch and father. He did not have as good a relationship as Ellion had, but the bond between them is still long and enduring. One of the last Astartes from the Dawn-Breakers.

Second Captain Gorgion - The Second captain is a newer astartes, and a chosen. His face is a close resemblance to his genefathers in that it is broken and battered, but his face is far flatter than his father's. His hair is red instead of brown, and he is massive and coated in his hair. It was an ugly sight to see the man, but he is loud and boisterous compared to his father. Typically is seen as a fool. Gorgion was one of the child warriors his father used in the last war on their homeworld and was present during the feast when he first felt the light of the Emperor. He was the first new Astartes with the improved geneseed from Ahgnemir.

Druid Master Gohn - The high apothecary of the legion and leader of the legion's druidic order. I like to keep those alive and preserve the rituals and rights of the legion and its homeworld. Fervently believes that Big E is the only good god but feels the others calling to him. He rejects them as he knows the path of salvation.

Runelord Ahgnemir - Named after his father, a new trend in the legion for the past decade with recruits from the newest tribes. Runelord Ahgnemir is the leader of the legion's runepriests; they are entirely forged of the Chosen. But he is well known for creating the scriptures and runes that coat the white hulls of the legions vessels and the wards that linger upon the bulkheads' doors inside the ship.

Chaplain / Smithlord Parettrigron - The Smithlord/chaplain order holds similar roles to the Druid order; the smithlords keep the tenants of the emperor and those of the chapter from conflicting. This is the equalizer in legion politics. They are the moral base for the legion and take a vow to their primarch. They hunt the psykers known to them; the runepriest order is excluded as that is not 'magic' to the legion. But, these are also the men who maintain much of the legion's large equipment; they also make the gifts for other legions and masterwork items. Those chosen for the role will always be some of the best smiths in the legion and teach initiates how to repair and forge their equipment.

Scion (great lord) Stormgah - The Borarh are the warrior order for those who focus primarily on their abilities as warriors. They are strong warriors and typically are the baseline for the majority of the legion. Though, they hold the most champions compared to the other orders. This was created by Ellion being the first Scion, or Great Lord. He was one of the finest swordsmen the chapter has had, but he was felled by an insectoid queen long ago. The only thing that remains of him is his shoulder pauldron. But, the order strives to be as good as he is, yet few can get close to the legends of the first Scion. Stormgah is a close second, a stern and angry man; his skills with a Warhammer are almost unmatched. But with a sword, he's likely one of the worse astartes with the blade.

Blood Guards - The elite guard of the primarch, all chosen, there is one from each of the legion's main four orders. These four men act as advisors and guards to their father and mother. They are a destructive group, covered in runic symbols. They are almost always on battle plate, and their shifts will change if their successor can best them in battle. Only one of the Blood Guards has not been chosen, but he was Ellion, one of the legion's greatest swordsmen.

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outside the legion

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General Bells Sigard - The Lord of the Army, which accompanies the Legion's primary fleet, leader of the Tengari Warriors, the regiments of Tengari, a smaller planet fight alongside the legion and are the backbone of most wars fought by the fleet. They focus on infantry and siege compared to the legions shock soldiers. But they are effective fighters and soldiers. He is an angry man, which counters acts the calm nature of the primarch. But, he does have some weight on what happens and is trusted in tactics of war.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role:
They are generalist fighters, but their tactics focus on ambush and urban warfare. Quick moving infantry, with some support elements for heavier targets. Taking their time to lure and destroy their enemies into scouted positions, and if possible, to assault positions that are well document and planned. But weapons are no favorite weapons or ranges; each astartes has his own preferred method of war. Like their father, they fight best in frigid conditions where the snow covers them. They rarely utilize speeders or gravity packs as their planet cannot host these vehicles due to the planet's gravity. For mobile units, bikes are typically used for fast attack and transportation. Anything else is rarely used, but land raiders, rhinos, and other tanks are used in moderation.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology:
Compared to some legions, they believe they are fully human, just enhanced to protect humanity. Warriors and artisans of them, each one forges his own equipment as they are not always in the mechanic's favor and tend to their own. They keep family with them from their prior lives to help spread the genes which can host the first legions geneseed. They host no servants but those considered wives and themselves. They do not enjoy servitors and primarily do not use them when available. But they are a religious people, believing in gods, and they were given the ability to become the guardians of the gods by becoming Astartes. They wear runes and trinkets to ward away from the dark gods who created the creatures that lurk on their homeworld's surface and the spirits that were not properly dealt with after death. They are famed like the early Germanic and Brittanian Celtic tribes. They are xenophobic, to anything that does not resemble a human should be killed. But they hate waging war upon human and human-like species; they try to be sons of gods to the best of their extent. But, their features with the geneseed typically make them look like hairy demons or apes.

The geneseed is highly selective, and in some cases, it will kill the intended host for one chosen by the geneseed; these are known as the chosen. Warriors chosen by the geneseed as if the seed has a spirit, it seeds out psykers to protect them and guide them as if it had a soul of its prior owner, which would lead back to the primarch. But there is a high mortality rate in the process and most who are to be elevated die.

Those with the best likelihood are those which the southern peoples' blood have, and their descendants regardless of what world they come from. The families brought along, spread the genes, and form new tribes, creating new tribes (companies) of Astartes. But, the geneseed also affects hair growth, as it speeds it up and covers most of the body; regular shaving must be done to keep within the standards of the primarch direct order.

Geneseed Flaws :
Animalistic Fur - Through the age of when the World was not under the Imperium's reign, tribes would choose an animal to support and dedicate their lives to, this being for protection, sustenance, or fear. This translates as well going forward into the tribes which compose the legion. Like the primarch, they grow fur, and it typically that of which the tribe is bannered under, such as the primarchs tribe, which typically hosts the fur colors of the southern bear, a large brown and red-furred creature. If unshaven, it will cover the entire body of the Astartes.

The Chosen Gene - With proximity to the Eye of Terror, the geneseed is unstable and psykic. The chosen gene comes from the newer addition of the geneseed created after the primarchs return to the legion. More specifically, the geneseed is implanted into a psyker of any level. After it is extracted from their body or corpse for further use, it becomes a Chosen geneseed.

It has become an organism of its own, acting as a parasite for non-psyker aspirants, killing them outright if they are weak in body and mind, and killing them soon after implementation if they are strong. It is excruciating and can happen during any part of the transformation into an Astartes. It has killed some of the best aspirants of the legion and many of the worst.

Once the chosen geneseed has been identified, special treatment is taken into it, and the different orders will strive to set forth to find a psyker donor for the geneseed. Once one has been found, it will make them an Astartes. They will have portions of the memories of the last owner(s) of the geneseed and a heightened ability over the others.

But, it is susceptible to the warp, those who turn to the lessons of the dark gods of ancient times or listen to the voices in their head will slowly begin to change to something detrimental, this has not been seen but once, and that was attributed to a viral strain during a biotoxin storm.

Relationships:
The imperial army and navy have fine relationships with the first legion; they care about each soldier and fight alongside them to limit necessary risks. Those who fight alongside the first legion typically have easier wars and fights. The mechanicum is the legion ire as the relations between them have been sour for a long time. Sometimes to the point of small skirmishes between the factions. But they try to love and embrace all of humanity and races like the Eldar, which resemble humans.

But, orks are hated, as well as great beasts (warp spawn); they notice that many warp threats but consider them great beasts of other planets that are akin to their own. Believing them to be some devolved species of alien that were like prior humans or something similar. They also hate insectoid species.

The Great Clans

Clan Ursus : Sires fifteen chapters, currently ranked the largest of the clans with three thousand astartes of different homeworlds, they also encompass the clanless astartes including the last of the pre-Chattian astartes. But the clan of the Bear is the primarch's clan, and they're usually coated in fur unless if they are 'clanless' to which they take from the original clan they were apart of. (those disbanded or destroyed) But those recruited to the clan from cub dens in Under the mountain, usually have thicker brown or red hair.

Clan of the Flying Whale : From the Southern Ocean hosts a tribe of fishers that have stayed isolated until the compliance into the Imperium, these people are smart and resourceful. They also have a biggest relationship with the mechanicum out of the entire legion due to their need for mechanics to survive on the water. They have sired seven clans, and typically are thinner haired than the other clans or have psudo-feathers after the wings upon the flying whale.

Clan of the Eirkar : From the Northern Pole lives a dark and ritualist people, the tribes of the northern pole do not hide within boundaries of wards and let the elements in, they hide only behind the heads of spears, shields, and axes. They are also the most brutal, taking after the large beasts of ancient Nova Chatti mythos and reality, the Eirkar is a large humped beast of blubber, with thick spiked tusks and a large spikey tail. Only two have ever been seen, one of which is mounted in the Legion halls. They sport patchy white hair, and their bottom canines are usually cone shaped teeth that fit into sockets along the upper lip with an underbite and are thicker then the rest of the legion.

Clan Wulf : Coming from the Midland Valley and plain, the Wulf clan is a destructive and social group, siring thirteen clans and having the most success with social compliance of a world. In combat games, they typically win the group infantry routines as they are excellent pack hunters and their coordination is natural to them. They are typically sporting snow white fur, or a plethora of different brown and black coats, extended canines and an extremely socialite pack mentality, they will be friends for the rest of your lives if you befriend one.

Tribe of the Fir : The tribes of the alpine reaches, and sister to the Elkhorne clan, siring ten living clans they are based upon the trees of the region, and siring legions of the smaller critters which live inside its depths. They are very sturdy beings, and the finest craftsmen of the legion, but also the slowest as they make sure the planets they bring into the fold are built well and strong. They also host the most druids and master runesmiths in the legion.

Elkhorne Clan : The Elkhorne come from the ancient frozen river, when it thaws massive herds of Elkhorne, a massive elk like creature, which comes to feed from the algae in it. The largest herd was recorded thirty years prior, and they are known to be ridden like massive horses. But, they are fast, and strong. Sporting thin hides of a brown with white coats, and are lean compared to the other clans. They have sired ten living clans, and several others that have since faded. They are known for their uniformity and lively attitude, also extremely good awareness.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Ahgnemir the Northern Lord

Name: Ahgnemir Thordemir Ehgnarlothna Porganiga
Nicknames: The Northern Lord - His homeworld
(generic cute furry animal(s)) - Brothers/Family
The Bear - Those who meet him can't say his name, so they say, Lord, typically will call him this behind his/Astartes/family's back.
Dwarf - When people want a fight
Gender: Male



Homeworld: Nova Chatti
This is a frozen hell hole of a world. The only livable area is the tundra to the north of the ice flats and the frozen oceans to the south. This livable zone is tiny but brimming with life; humans live in small settlements, usually surrounded by wards, or under the lone mountain on one of the southern Coastal planes. Food is usually grown inside caves or comes from the different animals which inhabit the planet. Some have the luxury of heading to the south side of the planet, which has a migratory fisherman tribe, but the Northmen do not believe these people are real as the trek to the planet's non-frozen side is deadly, and few survive the trip to or from. The planet also has a high gravity, meaning jump packs and grav-vehicles are useless upon its surface.

But on average, they live within a two-mile radius of where they are born; the men typically do not travel more than several miles outside the warded zones. Few travel during a war, and typically it is settled on a field by throwing spears across it until a single individual was hit. Then the winner was decided, but when the wife taking and ritual slaughter came, it was almost a one-sided battle every time. The attackers usually had complete surprise over the defenders. But in some cases, the defenders do prevail.

But there are six major tribes and fifty-six minor ones. The Capitol under Inn Mountain, or Icebrook Fortress, is expansive in population compared to the surface settlements. It also has the largest clans, the clan of the North Lord, which encompasses the adopted children of the Primarch (orphans), the family of the primarch (brothers and all), and the Astartes. In the family's case, each is worshiped like walking and living gods sent to protect them from the creatures that walk the planet.

Appearance: At ten feet, he is likely one of the shortest of the Primarchs, but out of size and musculature, he is likely one of the largest as even bare; he can withstand colds most Astartes could not. He is squat and built out rather than up. His musculature shows him as a man of craft and war. It is similar to what you would find in northern latitudes a few hundred years ago, it conserves heat and is a natural body shape, but in a primaries form, it is exaggerated. His sons do not share this quality and are much like standard Astartes in height. There is a thick hair layer covering most of his body but for parts such as his hands, upper face, portions of the neck, and feet. But this is typically shaven off on a regular as it deviates too far from the standard.

His face is rather not the greatest looking; once, he would have been a beautiful man in almost perfect resemblance to his father, but fighting the beasts of his world, it was left in ruins of its former self. Most of it did heal, and you can see the resemblance of a once beautiful man, but that is faded behind torn scars and broken bones that never set correctly. He is typically seen with a mask or a veil over his face.

His hair and facial hair do poke out from the edges of it and typically is braided in some fashion to show its volume and density, but also the trophy beads and bone that hang from his hair. If you peer closely, there is a silver gem upon a bone necklace below the beard.

His attire out of battle is typically that of thick robes covered in runes or animal skins that fit different roles from basic pants to a runeforge apron.

In battle, he wears a suit of white mail over light power armor. In favor of a helmet, he wears a white veil and cloak in alpine and snow environments; it suits well to blend into the environment. It is also covered by runes, of course, which help this unnatural chameleon effect.

Personality:
Humans come first - He is humane to those human worlds he finds, striving to find and bring all non majorly mutated humans back into the fold of a human empire. He strives to look as human as possible; this includes changing his appearance by shaving and making-up to hide anything that makes him seem animal-like, such as the thick hair that covers most of his body.

Pseudo-Religious - He believes there is something that comes from the warp, and he senses it; he does not know how and is relatively unaware of the power he holds in the warp. He creates runes and wards to keep demons and other malignant spirits at bay. To his knowledge, this works. His father says there is nothing but the known world, but he knows something terrible is out there, and it tries to call to him and those around him.

Partially Xeno phobic - even though extensive testing has been done on races such as the Eldar, he believes them to be human. This is due to their appearance and their gestures towards him. They are just slightly mutated in his eyes, but when you begin to deviate away from human, growing tails and extra parts when you're a definite mutant, that is when you become alien to him. He hates those aliens who can think but do not look like humans. They did not try to match humanity's greatness and must be destroyed for it. But, he does have a love for the nature of planets, trying to preserve them in any way possible inside of his fleets.

Nature-loving - He hates the industrial look of many imperial worlds; the large cities and spires drive him insane. This also puts him at odds with most mechanicum agents. The few who do enjoy his presence primarily focus on biological machines rather than metal ones. He does enjoy some mechaniucum friends, however, but that is because their machines are oddly beautiful for something made of metal.

Assistantless - His culture, or at least his original tribe took no servants or slaves; this became widespread after his ascension to the lordship of the planet. The small tribal feuds would end in some forced marriages, but the marriage was more than man and wife, as the two had to support each other to survive. Typically several wives were taken for different tasks within a homestead. The husband would provide food, and material for the homestead, while the wives kept it orderly and maintained. If either failed, the homestead would likely fail because of the planet's detrimental effects. He does have several wives, but he does not consider them servants, even though that is pretty much what they are.

Humanist - Astartes, even though super-soldiers should be human, he believes no Astarte is better than any man; he encourages them to seek human emotion and lifestyles outside of their warrior clades. To keep in touch with family, and to start their own. If possible, bring a sister or brother along. Their children with foreign world populations may help the future Astartes surge as their homeworld can only have so many people upon its natural landscapes. He is trying to find a way to have children with women himself; in secret, this is done much like modern artificial insemination, but it is why some of his previous wives are dead.

Calm - Compared to his gene family, he is considered calm between each of them, rarely angering and taking things slowly and methodically for a barbaric culture he lived in. Rarely does he lash out, to the point where one of his wives, when angry with him during the reunification with his blood father, had struck him so many times she had managed to break the mask he was wearing that day. He had stopped his father from striking the woman down as well, as she was a part of him due to their binds in marriage. But, when focused on a man who had disgraced a wife of one of his sons, the man was tortured publically.

Skills:
He is a wonderful forge smith and rune crafter, leaving a little bit of himself and his soul (literally) with everything he crafts. His works are beautiful, flowing, and natural, using resources found upon the places he travels as the world(s) are for humanities taking, as that is how things naturally should be.

In warfare, he specializes in guerrilla and shock infantry tactics. Alpine, Cities, Forests, and Arctic regions are his primary locals for his favored tactics. Outside of these environments, his tactics are a baseline for a Primarch's martial abilities.

The cold has little to no effect on him as if it does not matter at all. He has been noted fasting in the below zero icefields of his homeland, meditating in runic circles. Even when some could touch him in his meditation state, he would feel like a fire burning, yet he would barely melt the snow with his body temperature. The longest he has been out being one month, but that was when he asked to come inside by someone dear to him.

Runeforger - His runes, although they are warp-based, are master crafted and unique. Each one is a beautiful sign which has its purpose, but with this. He leaves a little bit of his soul and blood inside each rune he crafts, as he believes that is what wards off the evil spirits and monsters that infest his planet and warp while traveling.

Assignment Grade: Beta - Rune Forger, with his homeworld in proximity to the largest Warpstorm that has persisted, the first primarch was granted power from beings beyond his knowledge. They placed him upon his world, and he felt the world around him but did not know-how; those who took him in told him of Runes and Warding away evil spirits. He does not know/believe he is a psyker, but those runes he crafts typically do as they're intended to do. But he also refuses to believe that it is anything but his natural abilities as a primarch and that anyone can learn his ways. This is primarily out of ignorance.

Biography:

Before the emperor, upon his entry into Nova Chatti's atmosphere, he had sailed across the solar system Suebi for a month before landing upon its frozen surface. With this time, the Eye's warp energies and the sun's radiation have created a hotbed for warp energy to spawn and manifest. Luckily for him, his reentry had warded off much of the chaotic spirits trying to bury themselves inside his memories. He had landed inside of a settlement near the northern pole of New Chatti. His body had adapted to the planet quickly, his infant state growing thick hair across his body and adapting rapidly to the cold.

By the time he was a teenager, he had been left on accident once outside. He was magnificent, but his neglectful adopted parents were surprised in his survival; they placed an amulet around his neck, which was toward him when away from home. Something which can withstand below zero temperatures could not be taken by the spirits that lurked beyond the totem wall. Thankfully, the teenager had grown up well within the mile or so of his birth.

His fifteenth sutensday was a surprise when his rather isolated village was attacked by a neighboring village, having never left home. He was told to hide while the men fought as if he was found, the women would be slaughtered as well. He was still an outsider, and he was a bad omen for several surrounding tribes due to his height. He could have easily passed for a giant by this age, but unluckily for him, he would not grow much taller as an adult. But the opposing tribe, the Inn, would be victorious, and the village would be ransacked for women and children to add as slaves. He was luckily never found.

When he left, he found a spear, not that of his adopted father, but it was a spear of his tribe, then set out to hunt those who had destroyed his home and the safety of his home. Reaching out beyond the totem wall, he found nothing but howling wind and bloody snow that tracked for miles.

This he would follow, for days and nights he did. Stalking through the barren snow wasteland behind the Inn and what was left of his people, they eventually reached a mountain. This mountain was built upon a cave system, one which the Inn resided in. It was massive and coated by a fungus that lived on the roof and illuminated the typically frozen and dark planet. As the ice turned black, he had made his move into the cave system, to which his slaughter had begun.

A day later, the Inn's last was under his banner; they had barricaded themselves in with the slaves and had such become slaves themselves. Instead of making them slaves, he decided to free each one inside and create a new tribe, one that would rule over the area's surrounding the mountain. The tribe of the Northern Lord was born, and it waged war upon tribe after tribe. Until it conquered the entire world, or what was habitable on the world, some two hundred miles of land spanned to the North of the Mountain.

By the time he was eighteen, he had five wives. One for each month of the year, but this was primarily to clean his home, cook for him and his guests, finance his home and life, and two for political reasons. After two years of constant war, he decided that it was enough for him. He had been raised in a decent home, violence was rare, and until the Inn had come for his people, he had seen death twice before that moment. After that, he had committed thousands of acts of violence on those who wished to be left alone, those who wished to worship those creatures that stalked the lands, and those who wanted to fight for their independence. Typically those cultures he had destroyed left some imprint on that of the Mountain Inn. Servants and slavery were outlawed. Instead, all house duties should be done by wives and such; this was to help improve population growth to rekindle some form of life on the planet after the wars that had raged upon its small surface frozen.

After his reunion with his father, the gene stock which had been dwindling was likely to stay dwindling as the radiation and warp energies that had been imbued within him made it hard for those who wished to become an Astartes of the first legion. It is not that the gene-seed was corrupted by chaos, but it did make the likely hood of death over fifty percent. Most initiates would die from their first treatment. Those who become warriors in the legion are typically from the southern lowlands where he was 'born and raised.

The legion was devastated; by reunion with his first sons, they were down to several thousand. A genetic defect that almost had the legion erased had made it to where the stock would at first create a perfect astartes with all organs available. Still, soon after, it would turn them into blubbery mutants, their mind staying intact as they watched themselves turn into an abomination. With the primarch in hand, the geneseed did flourish, but the ability to create and Astarte was hard. Few outsides of his homeworld were able to take the geneseed, but when it was applied successfully, it created that astartes with little genetic difference to their cousins but for a thicker hide and a light fur. There would be another defect, which would come in the geneseed, which in some cases would seek out its next host rather than the ones who completed trials.

These souls are called the Chosen and are typically seen with a bloody hand upon their face rather than their shoulder, as that is where the primarch can touch them in their medicae bed before their surgery. They are primarily souls that will become runepriests; they are typically psykers who wish to follow in their fathers' footsteps of rune crafting. They spend one full on their father's flagship before being sent back to the tribe (company) they came from.

Several years after he departed from his father, his legion had ten thousand soldiers ready. He began his conquest, looking for more lost souls along the fringes of the Imperium. Trying to bring them back into the fold of humanity, there would be a slow process as they wish to document everything, usually leaving a handful of Astartes behind to oversee the world's compliance. Their families would intermingle with the local population, forming another tribe from which the legion recruit from in the future.

There was one battle of significance that the Primarch had fought in. This was again an arthropod species that inhabited a lost human world; the humans were still alive but had primarily lived in small settlements that acted like watch posts for the only living hive upon the planet. The bugs were on one of their final assaults when the Astartes arrived. Ten days of constant fighting raged on as his legion and the army units tied to his fleet drove the bug creatures into caves, which the Astartes would then assault again. On the thirtieth day of fighting, the ground broke up to reveal the queen, and about between it and the primarch ensued. The skull of the Queen can still be seen in Icebrook Fortress upon his homeworld. Over several days, this fight was said to be the Astartes and primarch fighting the spawn which the queen was laying during the fight.


The Meeting:

The Northern Lord sat at the feasting halls, looking over the different chieftains, their wives, warriors, and friends. He had been eating with them for more than two hours, conversing with those near him as his wives went around serving the different guests that had arrived. He was going to make sure they were all happy and sound. He had just conquered the last people on the Northmen and was thinking of journeying south to see those in the ocean once again.

Ahgnemir stood; he was going to give the final round of the night, his flagon held high above his head as something peered into his soul. The flagon soon fell to the table. Gasps, awe, and wails had filled the room as the giant man held his head and dropped to the ground in a spasm. Something was coming. He felt it surge through his head, and he screamed out as he clawed his way to his feet before leaving the room, heading to his chambers for solitude. Those he left in the room were on the floor now as an echo of his soul had screamed to each one of them. It was maddening; for a moment, they felt the pain he did, but it was gone within a second.

The five women close to him were crying; they had felt it the most as he is the second it took them, had felt everything. He had called out for their help in this, and they only fell themselves. They felt him locked inside their bed-chamber and felt his pain through the door and the city. For a week, this would continue; the guests became the caretakers to the five women outside the door to their husbands' rooms. Feeding them, and keeping them alive, listening to the murmurs and words from their lips. Wards and shrines had been placed around them to protect them. But the words still came, and they began to sound like the Northern Lords' works were coming from their lips.

On the fifth day and the end of the planetary week, he came out, and the women fell exhausted. He stared at those in awe of him.

"The gods are coming... Find me a cart... I will take them with me..."

An hour later, the five women were upon a cart being pushed down the streets. Behind him, those who had attended the feast, and behind them, a line of souls wandered behind them. Falling behind as the end of the precession has passed them or joining in on the flanks. Outside the entrance of the cave, a lone figure stood in gold. Ahgnemir stared at the figure and moved away from the cart towards the man. He knew this is where the voices in his head were coming from; he knew he was safe from then on. His hands extended out to either side of him, bowing was not in his culture, but embracing was. He would embrace his father; tears wept from his eyes and fell frozen upon the snow beneath them.

His father, the one he was taken from, was there for him. This was the god he had seen in his dreams and vision, the one he had asked for help and guidance. He felt this power around his neck in the ward he hung from it. He took a step back and stared at the man in front of him. He saw a face he had not seen in a long time, one that was similar to the one he wore as a child, a teen, and a young adult. But no, this face was not his; he wore this man's face. He was ashamed to have to let his face become so scared and destroyed at that moment. He had destroyed perfection, the perfect man. He turned and saw his first wife awaken.

"Father... My... Father, I am sorry I could not show you more grace and pageantry, but my people welcome you... That is my first wife, Boudica, the Warrior Queen of this world. We wish to welcome you and invite you to our home."

"First... Son..." The Emperor spoke, "turn, and face your sons."

Behind the Emperor stood ten giants, men in silver Mark II armor, that of the first legion, the Dawn-Breakers. His first sons of blood, he realized that he had a connection with these men too, the Emperor overshadowed it, but now that they had his attention, he too felt a connection with them. They are what he and his wives had always wanted, sons, powerful sons. The first captain, Ellion, took a step toward his grandfather and embraced him. Just like what he had done with the Emperor. The crowd silent. This was something unheard of to them; it was a sight that was amazing and almost indescribable. Godly, that was a good term to describe it, godly. They watched the gods that walked among them, meeting.

Ahgnemir embraced each of his sons and turned to his people and slowly awakening wives, "Feast yourselves... gorge your bodies of food, a new Era has come for us, and these are the messengers of progress! We will join them in the stars!"

Hours had passed, and the feast hall could not contain the number of people feasting in his home had expanded his capacity, so the regiments of soldiers that were with the emperor, as well as those of the first legion, were set up outside the cave entrances that lead under the mountain. The food stores were gone within hours, and more were coming in. The feast lasted an entire day, but the day after began the induction into the Imperium of Man.

He was brought aboard the Emperor's flagship, and samples were taken from him. These would improve the gene-seed stock of the legion and help create the next generation of the newly dubbed, Bloody Hands. A name forged from one of the ceremonial rituals, which had connected Ellion to Ahgnemir, where they cut open their palms and embraced each other, the handprint being placed upon the captain's shoulder pad over the old symbol, which still lingers upon Ellion's armor today, under the blood of his father. It can be seen inside the Warriors' chamber upon the flagship of the Legion, the Crimson Arm.

Soon enough after that, he and what was left of his legion were off with the Emperor to wage war on another planet in the system which was inhabited by drukhari raiders and the human slaves captured from his homeworld; he had never fought them or known about them in his time living on the planet.

Legion I – Bloodly Hands

Legion I – Bloody Hands

Legion Number: I

Legion Strength: 40k-60k average, deficient genestock/donor capability due to location
Each Tribe (company) is done by the bloodlines and the wave of recruitment, some companies have gone extinct, and their flags are held in both the fortress and the legion's flagship. The smallest company is around fifty 'Elder' Astartes; the largest is around three thousand.

Armor Appearance :

For The Emperor, for Ahgnemir, for Man

The primary armor will be Mark II Crusade Armor, their elite holes Mark III. Mark IV is slowly being brought into service with the first legion, but they are scarce and usually reserved for Veterans.

High Legion Officers, First Company, and the Various Priests usually have white instead of red and red instead of white. Their robes have a pure and unnatural white with runic wards and inscriptions in Horigahn.

Their iconography varies from company to company, but each one will have a white hand inside it. Typically, this is placed upon an Astartes armor when inducted in by a chaplain and then the Primarch when they arrive in the fleet with him.

The chosen, however, is always done by the Primarch first and will receive their iconography from him upon their induction into the ranks of Astartes. It will be placed over their face on their helmets.

Dramatis Personae:
Boudica the Warrior Queen - Mother of the Chapter and husband of the Northern Lord. She, even though extremely old, has had rejuvenating surgeries to prolong her lifespan. She is the caretaker to the primarch and servant to her sons. She is aided by the other two living wives of the Primarch, Gurtra, and Lolnamia. As well as the 'wives' and siblings brought along by the genesons of the primarch.

First Captain Tenebrus - First captain, one of the first Astartes in the legion, and the second Astartes to meet and embrace their primarch and father. He did not have as good a relationship as Ellion had, but the bond between them is still long and enduring. One of the last Astartes from the Dawn-Breakers.

Second Captain Gorgion - The Second captain is a newer astartes, and a chosen. His face is a close resemblance to his genefathers in that it is broken and battered, but his face is far flatter than his father's. His hair is red instead of brown, and he is massive and coated in his hair. It was an ugly sight to see the man, but he is loud and boisterous compared to his father. Typically is seen as a fool. Gorgion was one of the child warriors his father used in the last war on their homeworld and was present during the feast when he first felt the light of the Emperor. He was the first new Astartes with the improved geneseed from Ahgnemir.

Druid Master Gohn - The high apothecary of the legion and leader of the legion's druidic order. I like to keep those alive and preserve the rituals and rights of the legion and its homeworld. Fervently believes that Big E is the only good god but feels the others calling to him. He rejects them as he knows the path of salvation.

Runelord Ahgnemir - Named after his father, a new trend in the legion for the past decade with recruits from the newest tribes. Runelord Ahgnemir is the leader of the legion's runepriests; they are entirely forged of the Chosen. But he is well known for creating the scriptures and runes that coat the white hulls of the legions vessels and the wards that linger upon the bulkheads' doors inside the ship.

Chaplain / Smithlord Parettrigron - The Smithlord/chaplain order holds similar roles to the Druid order; the smithlords keep the tenants of the emperor and those of the chapter from conflicting. This is the equalizer in legion politics. They are the moral base for the legion and take a vow to their primarch. They hunt the psykers known to them; the runepriest order is excluded as that is not 'magic' to the legion. But, these are also the men who maintain much of the legion's large equipment; they also make the gifts for other legions and masterwork items. Those chosen for the role will always be some of the best smiths in the legion and teach initiates how to repair and forge their equipment.

Scion (great lord) Stormgah - The Borarh are the warrior order for those who focus primarily on their abilities as warriors. They are strong warriors and typically are the baseline for the majority of the legion. Though, they hold the most champions compared to the other orders. This was created by Ellion being the first Scion, or Great Lord. He was one of the finest swordsmen the chapter has had, but he was felled by an insectoid queen long ago. The only thing that remains of him is his shoulder pauldron. But, the order strives to be as good as he is, yet few can get close to the legends of the first Scion. Stormgah is a close second, a stern and angry man; his skills with a Warhammer are almost unmatched. But with a sword, he's likely one of the worse astartes with the blade.

Blood Guards - The elite guard of the primarch, all chosen, there is one from each of the legion's main four orders. These four men act as advisors and guards to their father and mother. They are a destructive group, covered in runic symbols. They are almost always on battle plate, and their shifts will change if their successor can best them in battle. Only one of the Blood Guards has not been chosen, but he was Ellion, one of the legion's greatest swordsmen.

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outside the legion

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General Bells Sigard - The Lord of the Army, which accompanies the Legion's primary fleet, leader of the Tengari Warriors, the regiments of Tengari, a smaller planet fight alongside the legion and are the backbone of most wars fought by the fleet. They focus on infantry and siege compared to the legions shock soldiers. But they are effective fighters and soldiers. He is an angry man, which counters acts the calm nature of the primarch. But, he does have some weight on what happens and is trusted in tactics of war.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role:
They are generalist fighters, but their tactics focus on ambush and urban warfare. Quick moving infantry, with some support elements for heavier targets. Taking their time to lure and destroy their enemies into scouted positions, and if possible, to assault positions that are well document and planned. But weapons are no favorite weapons or ranges; each astartes has his own preferred method of war. Like their father, they fight best in frigid conditions where the snow covers them. They rarely utilize speeders or gravity packs as their planet cannot host these vehicles due to the planet's gravity. For mobile units, bikes are typically used for fast attack and transportation. Anything else is rarely used, but land raiders, rhinos, and other tanks are used in moderation.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology:
Compared to some legions, they believe they are fully human, just enhanced to protect humanity. Warriors and artisans of them, each one forges his own equipment as they are not always in the mechanic's favor and tend to their own. They keep family with them from their prior lives to help spread the genes which can host the first legions geneseed. They host no servants but those considered wives and themselves. They do not enjoy servitors and primarily do not use them when available. But they are a religious people, believing in gods, and they were given the ability to become the guardians of the gods by becoming Astartes. They wear runes and trinkets to ward away from the dark gods who created the creatures that lurk on their homeworld's surface and the spirits that were not properly dealt with after death. They are famed like the early Germanic and Brittanian Celtic tribes. They are xenophobic, to anything that does not resemble a human should be killed. But they hate waging war upon human and human-like species; they try to be sons of gods to the best of their extent. But, their features with the geneseed typically make them look like hairy demons or apes.

The geneseed is highly selective, and in some cases, it will kill the intended host for one chosen by the geneseed; these are known as the chosen. Warriors chosen by the geneseed as if the seed has a spirit, it seeds out psykers to protect them and guide them as if it had a soul of its prior owner, which would lead back to the primarch. But there is a high mortality rate in the process and most who are to be elevated die.

Those with the best likelihood are those which the southern peoples' blood have, and their descendants regardless of what world they come from. The families brought along, spread the genes, and form new tribes, creating new tribes (companies) of Astartes. But, the geneseed also affects hair growth, as it speeds it up and covers most of the body; regular shaving must be done to keep within the standards of the primarch direct order.

Geneseed Flaws :
Animalistic Fur - Through the age of when the World was not under the Imperium's reign, tribes would choose an animal to support and dedicate their lives to, this being for protection, sustenance, or fear. This translates as well going forward into the tribes which compose the legion. Like the primarch, they grow fur, and it typically that of which the tribe is bannered under, such as the primarchs tribe, which typically hosts the fur colors of the southern bear, a large brown and red-furred creature. If unshaven, it will cover the entire body of the Astartes.

The Chosen Gene - With proximity to the Eye of Terror, the geneseed is unstable and psykic. The chosen gene comes from the newer addition of the geneseed created after the primarchs return to the legion. More specifically, the geneseed is implanted into a psyker of any level. After it is extracted from their body or corpse for further use, it becomes a Chosen geneseed.

It has become an organism of its own, acting as a parasite for non-psyker aspirants, killing them outright if they are weak in body and mind, and killing them soon after implementation if they are strong. It is excruciating and can happen during any part of the transformation into an Astartes. It has killed some of the best aspirants of the legion and many of the worst.

Once the chosen geneseed has been identified, special treatment is taken into it, and the different orders will strive to set forth to find a psyker donor for the geneseed. Once one has been found, it will make them an Astartes. They will have portions of the memories of the last owner(s) of the geneseed and a heightened ability over the others.

But, it is susceptible to the warp, those who turn to the lessons of the dark gods of ancient times or listen to the voices in their head will slowly begin to change to something detrimental, this has not been seen but once, and that was attributed to a viral strain during a biotoxin storm.

Relationships:
The imperial army and navy have fine relationships with the first legion; they care about each soldier and fight alongside them to limit necessary risks. Those who fight alongside the first legion typically have easier wars and fights. The mechanicum is the legion ire as the relations between them have been sour for a long time. Sometimes to the point of small skirmishes between the factions. But they try to love and embrace all of humanity and races like the Eldar, which resemble humans.

But, orks are hated, as well as great beasts (warp spawn); they notice that many warp threats but consider them great beasts of other planets that are akin to their own. Believing them to be some devolved species of alien that were like prior humans or something similar. They also hate insectoid species.

Relics of the First Age

Eisen

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North Gate

He continued to mozy on forward through the crowd, the ones talking of brothels were being yelled at for their horses. He just listened, his hair flowing lightly with the small gusts that managed to continue through the streets, as he was tall enough to feel them without any hindrances. He turned back in the direction he was walking, and.

Whack, his face had collided with the lower half of a sign. He was dumbstruck as he continued to walk through it, and when he let it pass over his head, it hit him again. He stopped and slowly bent his knees to where he was under the low hanging sign, looking up at it. Damn signs, why must people hang them so low. He moved closer to a wall as he just rested himself there, this was a new world and he was not enjoying it that much. First, some girl was stomping on his foot, he was not very suited for battle because of his extra clothing, but he did have on some metal covers underneath the furs and cloths that wrapped his foot.

But, then the sign was what was a real mood ender, his nose hurt as did the ridge between his neck, and his head. It was swore from the backswing of the sign. Thankfully no one from the store or building came outside to complain about him, but there were some snickers and laughs from behind him. His eyes were closed, as just wanted to cool himself off. It did not work, and he just listened to the people around him complain or make fun of him. There was no way to get around it, he was huge, his stupidity cost him this decency of having a pleasant trip but now it was ruined.

He looked at the sign as his eyes reopened, and he narrowed them a bit. It looked like some form of a woman pulling a long dress up her bent leg, what kind of foolish place is this, he wished he had learned how to read the local language, and not just have the ability to speak it. He decided not to find out what kind of place this was, and he started to hurry back to his place mozying down the street, but unable to find himself really. This was massive, this was more than anything he had really gotten himself into. He was used to seeing cities in the distance, or large groups of people in a large field, but not confined to streets. He hated it, there was no place to relax, no place to be away from people, it smelled of piss, sweat, shit, and anything else foul that his mind could think of. The animals in the street are likely to add more to this.

He felt a pull on his cloak again, and he looked down to see the little child, pulling on his robes, it had been going on for some time now since he had been leaning against the wall, and he thought of it as some sign from above. But no, it was the child once again, and she had led him out into the street. He had not realized he had gone so far away from the wall, but as soon as the child was noticed, it fled into the depths of the crowd around him. But, the girl had headed towards the horses, likely to try and beg, or steal. Using him as some form of trap or protection as he was a massive thing indeed. Luckily he had not really heard the people calling him, freak, and giant. Telling him the circus was one way or another. He honestly did not care at that point. He just began to walk once again. The child could have her choice of what to do, but he had somewhere to be, or at least he hoped he did at that moment.

There was a scream, outside the gate nearby, he had not gone that far apparently, but outside it, he saw several people stop as he did, but most of them continued. He did as well, turning back around, looking at the horses seeing a small patch in the crowd head towards the group of horses, and he kept walking once again. Wishing to be away from this area. And hopefully, to get out of the city as soon as he was ready.

Tags :
@josephb
@psych0pomp

Relics of the First Age

Eisen

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North Gate

A giant lumbered forward covered in thick furs, woven cloth, and chainmail. Around his shoulders was a thin cloak that acted more like a cloth windbreaker than anything else. He looked about the surroundings, mainly people, buildings, some guards here and there to keep the peace primarily but that was about it. Eisen was thankful for his size and mass, most people did not speak to him and he seemed to scar children as they believed he was a troll. He looked brutish, and in reality, he was, but he did care for many things in life. The world was connected, and life no matter how small had its purpose his people, and especially him. It was of an older way of life, the roots long forgotten, but the concept was still there. Names had changed or were merged with others, but the rituals would stay the same. It was his people's writing, how could it change it was archaic compared to the symbols and letting around them but it made due to a simple way of life in a cold desolate place.

He had honestly never seen so many people, his tribe was maybe fifty strong, the clan around it may be a few thousand, but he had never seen more than a few hundred. This was a city, and he would have to get used to it. He was a champion, an explorer, and a warrior. His life was based on oral stories and runic stones, but this was something else. People spoke of brothels, he had never been to a brothel, what was wench, a whore. He had a little idea, he just knows that this was his time to do something in this world aside from killing bandits, and fools.

But he was lost in amazement, this was large compared to his home, this was likely hundreds of miles away, he had barely been ten miles away from the home he was born in, and five from the one he had built for himself not a year before in preparation for taking a wife, but that was behind him at this moment, that could wait for years, those he considered friends, the two young men around his age. Oh, and several others that... He shook his head feeling something on his leg, well his knee. He looked down and saw someone stomping on his shoes and a small child. He did not feel her doing such a thing, but when she hit his leg he did feel it. It did not hurt, but it was annoying. Why would she attack something so large, so brutish. He leaned his head down and shifted his knees a bit as he patted her head softly.

"Shoo pup..." he said, gently pushing the child back a bit as he elongated once again hoping the child would not come back. He wished to not scare the poor thing and hoped that the child would not fear him like he believed he or she did.