Savage — Roleplayer Guild

Name: Erron Khaal

Alias’s: The Great Chief, Master of Blades, Namer of the Dead

Gender: Male

Homeworld: The planet of Varnis is a temperate Feudal World, covered in vast, fertile savannahs of lush grassland, rolling hills, and deciduous forests. The entire world has but a single, Pangea like continent surrounded by ocean, while lakes and rivers run throughout the landscape. A single, massive mountain known as The Spire sits in the middle of the continent. From this great tower the world slopes down into rolling foothills and thick forests, fertile flood plains, and finally the coast, which is dotted with tributaries and archipelagos from the rivers that snake their way across the savannahs from their mountain roots to feed the abyssal ocean. Huge herds of docile beasts roam the plains, fish teem in the waters, and massive apex predators hunt upon the grasslands, forests, waterways and mountain cliffs of the vibrant world.

The people of Varnis settle in city-state like clans, each clan claiming a certain amount of territory around their Holds. These clans, by nature of the land, are forced to rely on one another for trade, since the ore-rich highlands are unable to provide the same amount of food that the fertile coastal plains can. The one-sided nature of industry within each city-state has led to a complex system of alliances, trade agreements, and conflict between city-states as they bicker, barter, and fight for resources. Confederations shift as easily as the wind on Varnis, and sometimes blades speak more eloquently than tongues.
 
Culture on Varnis is much like that of the old tales of medieval Terra. Each Clan Chief divides his into minor Holds, governed by a Thane of his choosing, who then provides protection for the people who work his land, goods to his Chief, and warriors to support his Clan should the need arise. Traditions from one Clan to another may differ slightly, as well as dialects, but all on Varnis speak generally the same language and share similarities in culture. One aspect of Varnisian culture rings throughout the entire world, and that is their reverence and devotion to the blade. 

As a blade-culture, all members of society carry at least some type of edged weapon or tool. These can range from small knives to long bladed swords. Smiths of great skill and artistry are held in as equally high regard as the warriors of mythic legend. It is a well-practiced art among warriors of Varnis to create their own blade styles, which has given birth to thousands of different designs of edged implements among the people. While certain styles have proven to be more effective and grown in popularity, it is not uncommon to see a man carrying a knife or sword of his own design into battle. Honor duels, sparring competitions, and exercises in sword-play are everyday life among the Varnisian peoples. 

While a man is only as good as his sword, a warrior is also measured by his skill in the saddle. The great plains of Varnis provide ample space for mounted movement, and the warriors of Varnis seldom fight on foot in pitched battles. The Clans favor quick, decisive strikes to end conflicts, without relying on drawn out sieges or the pillaging of lands.  

Religion is not completely unknown among Varnisians. They practice a form of ancestor and nature worship, believing that the spirits of their ancestors live on in one of the Ten Great Beasts. Totems, shrines, and prayers to the spirits of these beasts and to their ancestors are encouraged by all. There is no religious hierarchy, though there are people known as Seers who are looked to within each Clan to provide spiritual guides, foretell dreams, and attempt to commune with the Spirits. The Seers also perform the sacred duty of keeping up with the Clans history and oral traditions. It is common practice for the entire Clan to gather around the Seer during certain holidays or festivals and listen to the dramatic retelling of heroes, great deeds, and lessons of the past.

Appearance:  Erron stands at about 11 feet tall, much like his brother and sister Primarchs, broad shouldered and heavily muscled in such a way that inspires awe among those who stand before him. He exemplifies every bit of perfection that the Emperor imbued within his gene-seed. His skin is a deeply tanned color, his black hair worn long but often tied or braided in the ceremonial style of his Clan. His chiseled jaw is clean shaven, aquiline features graceful and majestic. A strong brow arches over eyes that are shockingly green in color, a defining characteristic among the generally brown-eyed people of Varnis. While huge and well-muscled, he moves with all the grace and dexterity of the great savanna cats. His bronze skin is covered from his collar bones to wrist and hips in dark, black tribal tattoos of varying design. Tattooing is a cultural practice among both men and women on Varnis, and each depicts feats of strength, valor, and tales of legend.

His armor is just as impressive as he is, a suit of Artificer power armor known as the Mantle of Beasts. The armor is beautifully wrought, gleaming in the same deep forest green of his sons. The pauldrons of his armor depict the totems of the Ten Great Beasts of Varnis, five on each shoulder, their images beautifully embossed in brilliant gold against the deep, blood red crimson of the plates. Gold details and tribal designs riddle the plates of his gauntlets and greaves. All over his armor are various trophies and totems, from feathers hanging from one shoulder, animal and xenos skulls on his belt, and the great pelt of some striped-beast native to his homeworld draped over his back to name but a few. His helm bears two impressive wings that drive out from the temples, spreading backward like an eagle in flight. 

In battle Erron fights in three different ways, either on foot, mounted, or from the sky. He bears an expertly crafted Jumppack, a single thruster capable of high speeds and agility that spreads out into two eagle-like pinions of gold and forest green. The wings can fold up against his back or spread wide at his thoughts, and enable him to soar over the battlefield and strike death upon his foes from above.
 
His other favorite way of fighting is mounted on his own personal steed Razorwind, a customized Outrider bike that is equipped with twin-linked Volkite Caliver and a front end ornately designed like a great fanged maw. 

Like the traditions of his people, Erron is never without a blade. He carries his own personally crafted power sword, a single edge, slightly curved weapon. The blade is slender near the hilt, and widens out near the tip as it gently slopes back, while the handle is in a reverse curve to that of the blade. The hilt is circular in nature, and the broad tip of the blade is forked as it slopes back like that of a laring sword. A smaller, clip-pointed knife with matching hilt design accompanies it. Erron affectionately refers to his blades simply as “The Sisters,” named after an ancient Varnisian myth about a sword-maker and his daughters. Along with his preferred weapons, he bears an archeotech pistol on his hip, a large weapon of ancient origin that fires sizzling bolts of energy that melt armor and flesh alike.

Personality: Like all Primarchs, Erron was designed as a leader of men, both statesman and general. Unlike most Primarchs, Erron is impossibly high spirited and positive. His love of jokes, laughter, and friendly banter make him well loved among his Legion. The complicated politics of Varnis forced the young warrior to think fast on his feet, use both diplomacy and force, and learn how to bend several bickering Chiefs to his will for the greater needs of the people. He seldom is seen without a smile on his face, whether in the middle of strategic plans or the fiery glory of combat. His eyes sparkle with charisma and charm, and he speaks with eloquence and grace that sooth bruised egos and fizzle out conflicts among his brothers and sisters. He accepts almost everyone with open arms, offering an open hand before a closed fist. It is with this that Erron has faces his greatest challenges. Often, Erron is unable to see the evil in a person before it is too late. Dishonesty, disloyalty, and dishonor shake his very foundations of belief and he pursues the betrayers with an obsessive vengeance. He takes his father’s charge of spreading the Imperial Truth to be his lifelong destiny, a great adventure for his sons to forge their own legends among their ancestors. 

Being a child of the Emperor, he possess latent psychic talent, though he has no control over it and is not even aware of any powers that this talent may represent. This would make him fall upon the Omicron level of assignment. If his talent has ever surfaced before, Erron would simply shrug and chalk the event up to good luck and adrenaline rather than anything "supernatural."

Skills: Like all Varnisian warriors, Erron excels in close combat with his blades, whether descending from the sky or slamming through the ranks of the enemy upon his bike. Every cut and parry is an easily calculated dance of death as he moves like the Reaper of Terra across the battlefield. He excels in diplomacy as well, generally being able to resolve conflicts without the force of arms.

Biography:  The pod containing Errons body landed in the deep, temperate forests in the foothills of the Spire. A group of warriors and hunters were patrolling the forests, seeking the Great Beasts that dwell within the trees, looking to carve their names among the stories of the people when they came across the young child. He was naked, alone, but approached the men unafraid, a beaming smile on his face, smeared with dirt and grime. The men immediately felt something from this boy, and took him back to their Chief wrapped in their cloaks. Orrian Khaal, the Chief of the Clan, adopted the boy, for his wife was barren and he had no children of his own to carry on his name. The Chief and his wife had been praying to the Spirits of Varnis for a child, one that would become a great leader of the people, and this small boy from the forest was treated as if sent by the Spirits themselves.

Educated in the ways of politics and war, always at his adopted fathers side, Erron grew at a pace staggering to the people of Varnis, even more so securing his position as a child of legend. By just five standard years he had entered adolescence, spoke with the wisdom of his elders and spoke even faster and more skillfully with his sword. He joined the Clans raids and battles, devouring the tactical knowledge of his foster father and his Thanes. He spent just as much time with his adoptive mother, learning the finer arts of speech craft and guile, and reading every book within the Holds libraries. His superior intellect led to his quick promotion of the Chiefs adviser, sitting with his father in every council. His father taught him to earn the respect of not only his Thanes, but of his people, and to approach all strangers with an open palm before a blade. Within ten years, Erron resembled a fully grown man, save for the fact that he stood head and shoulders over the warriors and peoples of Varnis. 

Around the fifteenth year of his coming to Varnis, tragedy fell. In the dark of night, while the rest of the Hold slept easy, one of his father’s Thanes crept into the Hold and cut Orrians throat. A rival Clan, hungry for the fertile fields and herds of the Hold, bribed the Thane with power and land should he remove the thorn in their side. Erron, suffering from a violent nightmare filled with blood, fire and screams, awoke from his bed covered in sweat and out of breath. He did not feel fear, only a great sense of dread for the Clan. He went to his father’s room, seeking his counsel, and found the man dead, the blood soaked hand of his killer still clutching the knife, his mother’s throat slashed as well. Their bodies lay in a growing pool of crimson on the sheets. 

With a primal cry of rage Erron charged, attacked, and only the slightest grasp of reason stayed his hand from continuing to smash the man’s face with his fist. He learned the truth of the deception, the man pleading for his life, and Erron turned the dishonored Thane over to the judgement of the Clan that very morning. His body hung from the gates not an hour later.

With vengeance in his heart, Erron rode out to his father’s allies. He was unopposed by the Thanes in his claim as Chief, and they followed him with all the riders at their disposal. One by one the allies were called upon, and a great host of riders, that shook the earth with their stampede, traveled behind Erron as he rode out to meet the object of his aggression.

The Seers tell of the battle between Erron and the rival Chief with great exaggeration and mythic language. They tell of fire falling from the sky as their titan Chief slashed and sliced his way through the guards of the Hold single-handedly. They say Errons eyes burned with fire and the spirit of his dead father and mother as he cut the Chiefs head from his body and held it aloft in the air with a triumphant roar. The truth is that Erron challenged the man to single combat, which he refused, fearing the tales of the warrior’s strength and skill. Erron then, without killing a single man, stormed the Hold alone while his host surrounded the hills, and drug the Chief by his hair into the streets. He slew the man there, on his knees, and tossed the severed head from the palisade walls. At that moment the entire Hold fell to their knees and joined the great warrior, pledging themselves to his will. Erron looked out among the people, saw how the women looked scared and the children hungry, and made a new oath that none on his world should live in fear and pain. He would unite the world of Varnis under one banner, securing prosperity and freedom for all.

His crusade lasted ten years, his horde of riders ever growing, traveling from Hold to Hold. He would meet with every Chief alone, debate the terms of his surrender to the greater will of Varnis. Some joined with open arms and enthusiasm. Most did not. But in ten years the bloodshed had stopped, the wars at an end, and Varnis was united under the rule of one Great Chief: Erron Khaal.

Upon his meeting the Emperor, and the reunion of Primarch and Legion, Erron set forth on a rigorous restructuring of his Legion. The Terran born warriors quickly accepted their new leader, and Erron did his best to ease the bruised egos of the old warriors while he introduced new tactics, doctrine, and members of Varnis. He broke the Legion into ten Companies, each named for one of the Great Beasts of his homeworld. New recruits from the Clans were intermixed with members of different Clans and Terrans, and he shuffled the Terran warriors from their previous assignments to breakup any tensions or group mentality. His new Legion would be one of brotherhood and loyalty, not to a Clan, but to each other. The Spirit worship of Varnis was quickly replaced with the Imperial Truth, yet he allowed his sons to continue to pay respect to their fallen brothers and promoted the symbols of the Great Beasts as images of strength and cunning. He renamed this Xth Legion the Wild Blades, a name that he knew would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and pride in his sons. Once his restructuring was complete, Erron set out from Varnis at the head of his new Legion, rearmed and renamed, to join his true father and his Grim Crusade. 

Upon joining the Crusade, The Wild Blades participated in the pacification of dozens worlds. They fell either by the sword or by the word, and the Emperor himself requested Erron and his sons to accompany him on a mission to reclaim another of his lost children. While he had met many of his sisters and brothers already, this was the first time the Emperor asked Erron to accompany him personally on such a mission, and he swelled with the honor as his fleet made a course for the planet of Roma. 

It was there that the Wild Blades fell upon the Feral Orks assailing the human defenders of the world, who stood fast against the green tide with their massive Knight war machines. Under their combined strength, Erron and his Legion quickly turned the battle into a full massacre of the primitive xenos, and he was the first to meet his brother and fellow Primarch Maximus Aurelius along with his father. 

The Wild Blades were again called upon years later, when the Emperor located the last of his lost children. This time however, his Legion was joined by that of the I, his brother Mon-Kal and his brutal Bloody Host. With the combined fleet of Space Marines, the two brothers and their father broke out of the Warp and came upon a planet already beset by war. The vile Eldar, a race as old as time itself according to the Emperor, were locked in a desperate battle against a fleet of unknown origin. It was this fleet, their father claimed, that bore his final child. The battle barges of the Legions smashed the remaining Eldar fleet, crushing their resistance between the three combined forces. A moment that should have been joyous and filled with tales of glory was replaced with horror as that unknown fleet turned and fired upon its saviors. 

What had started as a rescue turned into a vicious battle as both the I and X Legions chased the war-weary ships back to their port of asteroids, and engaged in a drawn out guerrilla war within the dark tunnels of rock. His sons died by the score as the humans fought from shadowed holes, their mining tools used to blast ore from stone having deadly effect on the Legionnaires power armor. Such a small force could not hope to win, but they fought with zealous intensity. They died with the name of their leader on their lips as they took down many more of the Bloody Host and Wild Blades than expected.  

Covered in the blood of his fellow man, the loss of his children weighing heavy on his thoughts, Erron fought with himself over the pointlessness of it all. He was baffled that such foul deeds could be sanctioned, that this “Silent King,” could not see the fault of his actions. After long, brutal hours of fighting in the dark, every death darkening his mind, Erron finally confronted his sibling upon his Iron Throne. 

With Mon-Kal at his side, Erron watched with mixed emotions as his father brought his wayward child to heel. Mon-Kal wanted nothing more than to see the man executed for his crimes, and while Errons heart raged at the dishonor that he had seen, he could not bring himself to hate the man. His father had commanded them to bring him home, and that was what he would do. He could only hope that their future was not permanently scarred.

The Primarchs all reunited with their Legions, the Grim Crusade began in full. Systems were conquered by the score, huge swaths of mankind greeted with the Imperial Truth. The Wild Blades served with the loyalty and honor that was cemented into their geneseed, but faced their direst test within the hostile Death Worlds of the Forridien system. 

The Emperor of Man had received psychic reverberations that a great horde of Orks was building in the system, slaughtering the helpless descendants of mankind that struggled to survive on the jungle worlds. In an effort to soothe past grievances between his children, the Emperor ordered his I, X, and XX Legions to purge the xenos and reclaim the system. Once again, Mon-Kal, Erron, and Gorseval sailed into the void, and entered a hell beyond any previous comprehension.

These Orks were not like the mere feral beasts that Erron had fought on Roma. Those creatures had been primitive, leaderless, more of a pack of wild dogs than an army. These creatures were led by a massive Ork Warboss named Bonehamma, and under his brutal charge the Orks had formed cohesive strategies and tactics. Numbering in the millions, the badly outnumbered Astartes entered the system and headed straight for the primary world, seeking to meet the threat head on.

The Void Stalkers held the tip of the spear, their great battleships easily crushing the void borne Roks of the Orks fledgling fleet. It would seem that they had arrived just in time to prevent the huge Greenskin horde from leaving the system and spreading their cancer. Gorseval and his children ripped apart the heavens, tearing open a hole for his brothers to make planetfall. The landing craft of the I and X punched through the atmosphere, and dropped the Space Marines right into the heavy vegetation. The thick, steaming jungles of Forridien Prime made the mounted and aerial combat favored by Erron and his Legion impossible. Mon-Kal and his vicious Legion pounded forward, seeking to make contact first, claim that first kill. Erron and his children covered their flanks, hacking through the undergrowth. It was not long before they all had their taste of Ork blood. 

Fighting for inch by bloody inch, the Forridien Campaign marked the second darkest hour for the Wild Blades. The Void Stalkers, making planetfall shortly after establishing a blockade, fought from the shadows. They sniped and bit at the Orks flanks and rear, while the Wild Blades and Bloody Host absorbed the majority of punishment. 5 long, blood-soaked years, with thousands of Astartes falling at Ork hands, and tens of thousands of Orks lying dead. Still the beasts pressed on, spurned by their master. Wartorn jungles opened up larger swaths of open terrain, allowing more vehicles to deploy and augment the strength of the Legions. They were winning, slowly, and in a final titanic battle Bonehamma made himself known. Erron, borne aloft on his fiery wings, roared his challenge at the Ork. While Gorsevals Void Stalkers acted with silent death, and Mon-Kals Bloody Host made itself true to its hallowed name, Erron let loose all the rage of his entire Legion upon the Greenskin brute. Sustaining a dozen slashes, the Warboss refused to fall, battering Erron with his giant ax and roaring his defiance at the winged angel of death. After long moments of violent combat, Errons sword slashed across the beasts face, cutting across its right eye and it howled in rage and agony. Tasting the kill, Erron dashed forward, until he was smashed backward by a shell from an Ork cannon. When he rose, the massive beast was gone, and he howled his rage to the sky, taking out his wrath upon all those Greenskins unfortunate enough to be around him. 

It still remains a mystery how the Warboss escaped the planet and broke the Void Stalker blockade. Their leader gone, the rest of the horde lost heart and were either slain or fled into hiding. While there was victory, Erron felt little honor in it. He had lost his prey, and tens of thousands of his children had paid the ultimate price. He vowed with obsessive vengeance to find the Ork Warboss, and let his Sisters drink of his blood.

The Meeting: The longhouse was filled with sounds of laughter, cheers, and the clash of swords as warriors sparred, drank and feasted. Erron sat with a smile on his face, surrounded by his Thanes, armored in leather and mail and draped in furs and feathers. It was the tenth anniversary of Unification, a great day filled with tales of legend, feasts, and merriment. 

The longhouse door creaked open, and the gathering grew silent, all turning to look as a man wrapped in a dirty, plain cloak shuffled through the door and closed it behind him. Confusion swept the tables, and Erron himself stood, extending a hand toward the man.

“Greetings Stranger, welcome to the Hall of the Chief. Come, drink with me! Today is a day to feast and remember the dark days of old and make plans for the bright future ahead,” He said with a smile, and his Thanes thumped the table in agreement and howled.

The Stranger said nothing, just walked forward, his hood still pulled up around his head, face mostly hidden behind the cloth. He approached the Chiefs table, and gazed up at Erron. “You are the one they call The Great Chief yes?” he asked, his voice quiet and soft, just above a whisper.

Erron, still smiling, stepped away from the table to approach the man, towering above him. “I am, who is it that asks?”

“My name is irrelevant for the time being Great Chief. What I have come seeking is a challenge, one that will prove to me who you are and your worthiness.’

The Thanes around Erron growled, some starting to rise and grip sword hilts until their Chief motioned for them to be seated. “Very well Stranger, then I propose that if I win, you must sit at my table, drink with me and serve me among my Thanes,” The Stranger nodded, “And if I win, you must pledge yourself to me Erron Khaal,”

At the mention of his name, without the traditional title, a gasp rose among the people and the room grew quiet. Erron smiled again, nodding without a word, and drew his long blade, the edge flickering in the light. The Stranger stepped back, reached inside his cloak and drew forth a shimmering gold blade, equal in every right to the Great Chiefs own sword, drawing more gasps from the audience. For a long time, the two swordsmen stared at each other. The Strangers face impassive, Errons with a look of easy calm. 

With a flash and clang the two met, sparks flying from their blades as they danced, each cut met with a parry, every stroke dodged. The two men moved like water, flowing from one form to the next, the ringing of metal on metal filling the hall as the Thanes began to cheer and thump the tables for their Chief. For Erron, his calm smile was replaced with a look of determination, as never before had he met a swordsman to match him edge to edge. The Stranger remained impassive, his brown cloak swirling around him, barely breaking a sweat as he met the Great Chiefs blade with his own at every moment. After about an hour of combat, the Stranger not even breathing heavily, a thin shine of sweat on Errons bronzed brow, the Great Chief lost his focus but for a moment.

The crowd drew in a collective breath as their champion tripped slightly, stumbling to catch himself and leaving his body wide open for a decisive strike. Erron knew he had erred, yet the blow never fell, and as he regained his balance he looked into the face of the Stranger, standing in a fighting stance, waiting for him to ready himself. A small smile curled upon the mans previously blank face. 

Erron stood straight, knowing that he had just been granted a courtesy, and sheathed his long curved blade. His Thanes cried out, and he stilled their anguish with a steely-eyed glance. “A man who has the honor to withhold his strike when his opponent lies at a disadvantage is a man who deserves my respect and my allegiance. But I ask just one boon, and that is for you to reveal who you are,”

As the man smiled, he sheathed his golden blade and tossed off the brown cloak, the disguise now gone and his body growing to its full height, a god among gods, perfect in every way. He glowed with a golden light, and the gathered peoples of Varnis gasped, collapsing to their knees at his grace and power, and Erron looked upon the face of the only man he had ever met that could be called a god.

“I am the Emperor of Mankind Erron Khaal, and you are my son. Come now, join me in my Crusade to unite the lost people of Man, and bring this galaxy to a new age of Truth.” 

Erron took his father’s hand, and ascended into legend.

Legion Name: The Wild Blades

Legion Number: X

Legion Strength: Approximately 60,000 Astartes, formerly 80,000 prior to the Forridien Campiagn. Augmented with the forces from the Imperial Army, Remembrancers, and Adeptus Mechanicus.

Armour Appearance:

Warcry:  “Death Rides on Swift Wings!”, “Glory the Tenth! Glory the Great Chief! Glory the Emperor!”

Dramatis Personae:

Captain Ballor Vyle, “The Beast”, Thane of the 1st Company: Ballor Vyle was previously a member of the Apexa Preadatoris prior to taking command of the Legions veteran company. He has been with the Legion since its very first days, and grew up in the shadow of its Primarch prior to the coming of the Emperor. He has fought in every battle, though his first command as Thane was during the Forridien Campaign. He is one of only four of the Captains that survived that brutal war. Thus, he is intensely loyal to his Great Chief, believing that there is nothing Erron Khaal cannot do, no order he could give that would be unjust. He has dark black hair, shaven into a single stripe down his scalp, and a full beard of bushy, black hair. His body is heavily tattooed, even his face, giving him a fearsome appearance. Muscular, riddled with scars, and more aggressive than his fellow Captains, Ballor Vyle enters combat clad in Cataphractii Terminator armor, wielding a large, sickle like blade of his own design, as well as a heavy Volkite Cavlier.

Captain Roek Ixmatl, “The Raptor,” Thane of the 2nd Company: As glorious as the Beast for which his Company is named, Roek Ixmatl always puts a dash of flair and showmanship into his actions. He is a constant prankster, and the only one who dares poke “The Beast” himself, as Roek is the only Thane who can match Ballor for battle-honors, as well as being one of the survivors of Forridien Prime. His black hair is worn long, like their Primarch, and he has chosen to adorn his body with avian-style tattoos to honor the Company he commands. He is equipped with the standard Jumpack, a twin set of brilliant lightning claws as well as a knife with a wicked reverse curve like a talon.  

Captain Feris Armigarl, Thane of the 3rd Company: Feris Armigarl seeks to prove himself daily, and is the most ambitious of his brothers. He seeks victory in everything, whether on the battlefield, sparring, games of chance, or even drinking. He is staunchly loyal, although being a very sore loser, and often brawls within his Company or between Companies are started by him. Despite this, he is well liked and respected, as he has often come to the aid of many of his fellow Thanes. He is bald, in order to show off the tattoos that cover his scalp. 

Captain Vikla Broos, Thane of the 4th Company: As cunning as he is deadly, Vikla is the resident scoundrel of the Thanes. A cheat at games, and one who earns many blows from his peers for his jests, Vikla prides himself on his ability to outwit any of his brothers, and often seeks out a chance to test this boast. In battle he is lightning fast, reacting to changing situations and tactics with ease, and able to almost predict enemy movements before they even take place. He keeps his hair cut short, his face shaven clean, and typically wields a combination of a lightning claw and sword in battle. 

Captain Darrien Phell, Thane of the 5th Company: A Thane for the common man, Darrien Phell has humble origins. He is no expert tactician, no expert warrior amongst the Thanes. He has nothing that sets him apart from his fellow Thanes except for the fact that he, unlike any of the others, is Terran. This makes him somewhat of an outcast, and he often tries to remedy this by being a peacekeeper and keeping to the needs and training of his Company. This also makes him one of the oldest members of the Legion, save that of “The Ancient”. He is paler than the Narisian Legionnaires, with blonde hair instead of the customary black. Still, he would not have been selected for command had he not proven himself worthy in the eyes of the Primarch.

Captain Lovar Kine “The Bard”, Thane of the 6th Company: Lovar is as loud and boisterous as a bellowing beast back on Varnis. He has a great taste for food and drink, and possesses some of the greatest stories of the Thanes, though many are probably shameless exaggerations. He also has an excellent singing voice, and he is often called on the regale feast tables with the ancient drinking and battle ballads of Varnis. Always smiling, always laughing, Lovar is well loved by his Company and even most of those outside of it. Even Legionnaires from outside of the Wild Blades enjoy the companionship of Lovar, and he seeks to always push the boundaries of brotherhood to those outside of his Legion. Lovar, is also one of the few Captains that can claim to have been in command during the Forridien Campaign. Mid-length, spiky hair, a pointed goatee, Lovar adorns his armor with pelts of fur and many teeth and claws, and has fashioned his helmet into the visage of the totem animal of his Company, the Wahyur.

Captain Sildur Farram, Thane of the 7th Company: Quiet, soft spoken, and deeply spiritual, Sildur Farram holds the truest of any of the Thanes and many of the Seers to the old ways of Varnis. He has been criticized by his peers for sometimes taking his spirituality too far, bordering on going against the Imperial Truth. Still, he has never been chastised for his actions by his Primarch, who he believes secretly honors the old ways as well in private. His black hair is matted into thick dreadlocks, and he has covered nearly all of his flesh with tattoos to indicate the spirits of his ancestors, fallen brothers, and the Great Beasts.

Captain Aldos Ruusak, Thane of the 8th Company: Youngest of the Thanes, Aldos Ruusak earned his position through skill of arms as well as his charisma. If any of the Thanes could emulate their Primarch in speech it would be Aldos. He is also the most softly featured Thane. A slimmer jawline, less intense brow, and a well-groomed appearance give him a boyish appearance. He chooses to tattoo himself in more conservative ways, though due to his younger years this is mainly because he has not participated in as many battles or tale’s worthy of such. He is often the target of jests and jabs from his fellows, who claim he is a green recruit barely worth the armor he dons. Still, he fights with just as much energy and ferocity as any of his brothers, excelling in both bolter and blade.

Captain Torga Tredt, Thane of the 9th Company: Often the subject of jests at the nature of his Company, being named for the oldest and slowest of creatures on Varnis. Torga does not care much, none of the jokes of his brothers can faze him, and he is the most stoic and reserved of the Thanes. He believes that the spirits of the Urmatok give him unparalleled wisdom in comparison to his brothers, and he approaches things from a much more thoughtful perspective. His head is bald, but he has a short cropped beard that he shaves tribal designs into. 

Captain Ragath Varock “The Monster”, Thane of the 10th Company: The last of the survivors of Forridien Prime amongst the Thanes, Ragath bears heavy scars from his engagements there. He is missing an eye, ear, and arm on one side of his body. All have been replaced by cybernetic enhancements, but the other scars on his body leave him horribly disfigured. This has earned him the name, “The Monster,” which he wears proudly. He believes it adds to the fear his enemies will feel when they face him in battle. The side of his head with the cybernetics is bald, covered in burn scars, so hair only grows on one side of his head and he wears it long, often covering his good eye. He is nearly as old as Ballor, and also was once a member of the Apexa Preadatoris. Both he and Ballor served as the Primarchs body guards during the fall of The Reach, and as such they both harbor some resentment towards the Void Stalkers. Him and the other four more senior Captains form a different sort of brotherhood from the others, as they are the ones among their peers that know the horrors of commanding troops in the harsh jungles of Forridien Prime, though some were still present in the fighting. He differs from tradition the typical tradition of swords among the Wild Blades, and carries a pair of twin, single bladed axes. The ax was seen as a commoner’s tool on Varnis, more utility than a proper weapon. Given that Ragath was in fact of peasant breeding, he feels this is fitting.

Brother Kallen Gorn, Seer of the Wild Blades: A man of unquestionable wisdom, tactical knowledge, and diplomatic ability. Like Ballor, Ragath, Lovar and Roek, Kallen has been with the Wild Blades since the first days, and if not for his psychic abilities he would have been selected for command along with them as well. He is the greatest and oldest of the Seers, and despite the lack of hierarchy among their ranks, is seen by all as the leader of that very small group. Erron Khaal frequently requests his guidance and advice, along with that of his Thanes, when making plans and decisions for the Legion, and Kallen has proven himself well worth the respect he deserves by foretelling events with more accuracy than the other Seers. He also is the greatest story teller of the Legion, his oratory skills a match for even the famed Iterators of Terra. His black hair is streaked with sliver, his face craggy with years, and he bears a full beard. 

Brother Josef Hinde, “The Ancient,” Contemptor Dreadnaught: While Kallen Gorn may be the wisest, Ballor the most vicious, Ragath the most brutal, none can claim to have seen what Josef has seen. Terran born, a founding member of the Wild Blades back when they were called the Huntsmen. Josef was there when the Emperor took the Legion from Terra, there when Erron Khaal met the Emperor, there for every battle and every great legend. His wealth of knowledge is second to none, and he has taken it upon himself to write down the oral traditions of the Legion from his first-hand accounts. His Dreadnaught body is covered in writing in the ancient pictoral style of Varnis, telling of legends and deeds, of brothers and monsters. When not in battle, or preparing for it, Josef is often found within the great libraries of the fleet, transcribing his thoughts.

Lord General Vincent Valseppi: Lord General of the 105th Imperial Army Regiment, the Justicarian Guard, Lord General Valseppi is a hard man of deep, brooding demeanor. His command is absolute, and he rules his forces with an iron fist. He does not hesitate to contradict orders that he believes are foolish and unnecessary, even when given by a member of the Adeptus Astartes. As such, the Primarch values his counsel, for he sees in Valseppi not another “yes man,” of the Imperium, but a tactical genius who has earned his position through the brutal war torn reaches of the void. He is regal and aristocratic in appearance, gray haired and mustached. 

Magos Thypis Arconah: Devious, manipulative, and self-absorbed, Magos Arconah is tolerated amongst the Wild Blades and Imperial Army only because it was ordered that he be there. He cares little for the Crusade, at least internally, seeking only to advance himself among the ladder of power and discover the long lost secrets of technology on worlds conquered by the Expedition. Even Erron Khaal, in all of his desires to be personable and friendly, finds it difficult to be around the man. If he could even be called man any more, since he is body has been replaced by more mechanical cybernetics that makes him more machine than human. His face is covered in a mask of metal, eyes replaced by cybernetic implants, and a grill for a mouth. He is stooped over, his red robes hunched and bulging from the mass of machine parts adorning his body. 

Flora Harper, Remembrancer: A Terran born woman of unmistakable grace and beauty, with flowing golden hair, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. Flora was once the daughter of a high ranking Imperial aristocrat, who against her families wishes fled to join the Expeditionary fleets as a Remembrancer. Her chosen style is art, through drawings and painting, and she dressed in plain, army issue clothing instead of the expensive silks of her birth. Many an Imperial soldier has had his breath snatched by her as she passes by, and she is always friendly, though dismissive of their intentions. She has taken a particular interest in the Wild Blades, especially their Primarch, and though being the youngest and most inexperienced of the Remembrancers has managed to charm her way into their good graces and is privy to scenes and information that others would kill for.

Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: The Xth Legion prefers to fight in the way of the Clans, quickly and decisively. They prefer to enter combat mounted upon swift Outrider bikes, blasting at their foes with twin-linked bolters and slashing with their swords as they cut through the ranks of the enemy. They also have specialized squads of winged Jumppack equipped Marines, led by a veteran Namer of the Dead from the 2nd Company. These squads drop from the bellies of strafing aircraft to bring quick destruction to command nodes of the enemy, falling like eagles to sow confusion and discord. 

Heavy equipment is not entirely unknown among the Legion. It still possesses armored vehicles such as the Predator and Sicaran tanks, as well as a few Fellblade super-heavy tanks and Land Raiders. These weapons of war are not the preferred method of engagement for the Legion, as they do not support their usual doctrine of swift, hard hitting attacks. Contemptor Dreadnaughts and Wild Blades Marines clad in Cataphractii Terminator armor from their veteran 1st Company are typically the heaviest of equipment seen among Wild Blade assaults, entering from orbit in Drop Pods to smash into enemy ranks.  

To fill the requirement for larger and more devastating weaponry, the Wild Blades utilize teams of Scimitar Jetbikes and Javelin Attack Speeders. More heavily armed and armored than the Outrider bike or common Land Speeder, these platforms allow the employment of heavier weapons such as Volkite Culverins, missile launchers, heavy bolters, lascannons and plasma cannons into the fray without sacrificing much in the name of speed and maneuverability. Outfitted with anti-vehicle or anti-infantry armaments, a team of Scimitars or Javelins fills the role of Devastators and heavy tanks.

For transport the Legion relies on the venerable Stormbird, or the smaller Fire Raptor and Storm Eagle gunships. Preferring to move infantry by aerial insertion or Drop Pod, the Legion dislikes the use of the larger land based transports in favor of fast, strafing drops of infantry to the front.

Four warriors, chosen among the most elite, cunning, and loyal of the Legion by the Great Chief himself, make up the Apexa Preadatoris. These veteran warriors, armed with long, two-handed single edged power swords and brilliant Artificer armor, make up Erron Khaals personal body guard. 

A favored tactic of The Great Chief, one that he calls “The Trident,” is to begin his attack with squadrons of bikes that cut at the enemy’s flanks, pushing them closer together and squeezing them. Stormbirds and gunships deploy their aerial squads that target the leaders and heavy weapons, while the killing blow of Drop Pods erupt into the center, spilling their squads of Marines with close combat firearms and blades, Terminators, and Dreadnaughts. There is no escape, as the enemy must choose to face the crushing might of the 1st Company, or dare to brave the slicing blades of bikes in order to retreat.

Legion Characteristics/Ideology: Sticking true to Varnisian culture, the Captains of each Company bear the title of Thane as well as their rank. The only mark of their office, outside of what they chose to adorn their armor with, is a single longitudinal helmet crest of red horse-hair. Each of the ten Companies of the Wild Blades is given a symbol, one of the Great Beasts of Varnis. These creatures are the formerly worshiped and revered Spirits of the world, who the Clans of old used to believe their ancestors became upon death. The spirit worship is gone, but Erron Khaal encourages his warriors to find strength within the old memories, and each Marine adorns his armor with trophies, totems, and tribal markings in a way that no one Marine in the Legion looks like the other. 

I: Gorgoths, led by Ballor Vyle: 

Huge, ape like creatures of the temperate forested regions of Varnis. These beasts resemble a larger version of a Terran gorilla, with short, muscular hind legs, and large powerful forelimbs. They differ in that they possess a second set of smaller, more dexterous arms at their midsection for manipulating their young, picking up food, or building nests. They can walk on their hind legs, but typically move by knuckle walking. Their faces are broad, simian in appearance, but with two jutting tusks from their lower jaw. They weigh on average for males at about 700 to 900lbs, with females weighing around 500-600lbs. On their hind legs, Gorgoths stand about 16-17 feet tall, while typically about 14 feet tall at the shoulder when walking. They are omnivorous, and social creatures, moving in families with an Alpha male. They are incredibly territorial, and attack anything that could be posed as a threat with uncontrollable fury. This makes them exceedingly dangerous, as there is little one can do when faced with an angry family of Gorgoth brutes. As a Company they are the veterans of the Legion, and possess all of the Cataphractii suits of Terminator armor and the Contemptor Dreadnaughts. They pay tribute to their Great Beast by being ferocious when unleashed, and demolishing the enemy through the brute force of their mighty weapons. 

II: Avaroks, led by Roek Ixmatl: 

The undisputed king of the skies, Avaroks are gigantic raptors. A 20 foot wingspan is average amongst their kind, and the Seers tell tales of looming shadows that spell death. They are brilliantly plumed in gorgeous, multicolored feathers. Their feathers are so prized by the Thanes and Chiefs of old, that a single one was often given as a token of fealty to a new Chief. Completely carnivorous, they soar high above the land from their mountain aerie’s in the Spire, diving into the rivers and savannas to snatch prey with talons as long as sword blades. Serrated beaks give them a menacing appearance. The 2nd Company honors their Great Beast by completely devoting themselves to aerial combat. Each of the Marines is equipped with a specialized Jumpack with a single main thruster and two smaller control ones, and a pair of static wings. They are known to differ slightly in the use of blades that the Legion is so fond of, carrying smaller knives and using more lightning claws amongst their number. Veterans of the Company are honored with the title  Namer of the Dead, which goes back to an old Varnisian legend of a Chief betrayed and murdered by all of his Thanes. The Chief, reincarnated as an Avarok, hunted down and picked off all of the Thane’s children, followed by the Thanes themselves.

III: Taurochs led by Feris Armigarl : 

The Tauroch is usually a gentle beast, roaming the massive grasslands of Varnis is great herds. At its shoulder, it stands at about 25 ft tall, and is covered in a sleek pelt of fur of varying earthen colors and patterns. A male Tauroch can weigh as much as 5000-5500 lbs. Its hind limbs are shorter than its fore, making its back sloped downward. The creature’s massive heads are somewhat cattle like, with large curling horns from the top of its gigantic skull, as well a single horn erupting from its nose. They use their horns for contests of dominance for a herd, as well as defending their herd from the few predators that dare take them on. They are herbivores, however it would only be a fool to think that you could tame a Tauroch into a docile beast of burden. They get very aggressive when threatened, and their sheer size alone makes them a disaster within any type of settlement. Luckily they seem to avoid human populated areas. The 3rd Company takes their totem animals lessons as staunch defenders of the herd to heart, valiantly charging to the aid of their brothers despite any danger.

IV: Nekroa led by Vikla Broos : 

Swift, cunning, and perhaps more deadly than anything else on Varnis. While any other beast may claw, slice, or stomp a man to death, none kill faster than the serpent-like Nekroa. It is the smallest of the Great Beasts, merely 10 feet in length. Lighting quick, it slides along the forest floor, or up into the tall tree branches, where it will patiently wait to spring itself upon prey. Its fangs are about 18 inches in length, and deliver a potent neuro-toxin to the blood stream that paralyzes its victims and causes extreme agony by starting to partially liquefy flesh and bone. This allows for a much larger meal to become accessible to the Nekroa, as they unhinge their jaw and swallow their prey whole, and alive. They are utterly terrifying, perfectly camouflaged in dull greens and browns. The 4th Company emulates the Nekroa through their devotion to striking their enemies with lightning precision, ending a fight before the enemy even knows that the Wild Blades are upon them. 

V: Brokkous led by  Darrien Phell:  

Not all great predators walk upon the land and sail the skies. The Brokkous dwells beneath the deep, wide rivers that run from the Spire and wind across the forests and plains to the ocean. Roughly 15 feet long, though there are legends of even bigger Brokkous within the rivers, the great fish is the primary carnivore of the freshwaters. Sleek as an arrow, with a jutting lower jaw riddled with hundreds of vicious teeth, the Brokkous is a solitary hunter of the waters that strikes with strength and speed. It has been known for Brokkous to leap out of the water to snatch passing birds, or beach themselves onto the riverbanks and latch onto drinking animals and drag them back into the water. With this the Brokkous is totally adaptable, able to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in any situation. A common fable in Varnis is the story of a Brokkous being snatched from the river by an Avarok. The great avian predator, sure of its victory and its superiority, dangled the giant fish from its talons and did not kill it, wanting to torment the beast as it flew back to its nest. The Brokkous, sensing the bird’s arrogance, allowed itself to go limp, feigning death. The Avarok looked down, to make sure the Brokkous was actually dead, and the fish struck. The fish flailed in its talons and bit the birds wings until the Avarok dropped it, and the Brokkous landed back in the water. This tells a dual purpose, as one should never be so sure of success as to allow ones competition to gain an edge, as well as one should never allow a dire situation to prevent them from taking action. The 5th Company holds true to this ancient children’s story, never backing down from superior foes, and always making sure to stab an enemy twice to ensure its dead.

VI: Wahyur led by Lovar Kine :

 No Great Beast symbolizes the brotherhood of the Wild Blades like the Wahyur. Intelligent, social pack hunters, the easiest comparison to the Wahyur would be the Dire Wolves of ancient Terra. They are large, semi lupine creatures, roughly 300 lbs, about 6 feet tall at the shoulder. Their pelts range from reddish brown, black, grey, white, and spotted patterns in between. Their canines are elongated, extending past their lower jaw. Their tails are as long as the rest of their body, and it is suspected that the movements of their tails are a complex language to other members of the pack to coordinate attacks on prey. They are the only Great Beast to populate all biomes on Varnis, and can be found from the highest cliffs on the Spire, to the great plains and forests. The live in large families, and are completely committed to the survival of their brothers and sisters. Packs of Wahyur have been known to even take down lone Taurochs by strength in numbers and cooperation. The 6th Company follows their example, relying on their brothers in arms to conquer their foes, and always making sure the pack never goes hungry.

VII: Cathanar led by Sildur Farram :

 Stalking the forests, sliding soundlessly between the trees, eyes glowing in the night, the Cathanar hunts. A ferocious great cat, black as night with tiger stripes of silver and gold, the Cathanar is a regal hunter of renowned skill. Its cunning is unmatched, able to stalk its prey silently and await a perfect chance to strike. About 500 lbs of pure, sleek muscle, blade like claws, the Cathanar has 6 limbs, though the front four arm more closely spaced than the back two. It lacks a tail, and has long, pointed ears that can point up firmly from its head or lay back flat. These ears are its main sensory organ, although the Cathanar has excellent vision. It can hear prey moving up farther than any other predator on Varnis. Their pelts are highly prized as trophies, for it would take a hunter of great skill to bring down one of the creatures, especially in the darkened hours of the Great Beasts primary hunting grounds. In the sagas Cathanars are portrayed as devious, tricky characters that often lure unsuspecting men and women to their doom. The 7th Company uses the cunning of this ferocious predator as their symbol, striving to always be one step ahead of their prey, knowing when to strike and when to hold back and wait for that perfect moment.

VIII: Aktaka led by  Aldos Ruusak: 

There is no more majestic beast upon the grassy plains, the forested hills, or the mountain peak than the regal Aktaka. Its body stands at 12 feet to the shoulder, but the massive rack of antlers that adorn its head like a crown make it upwards of 18-20 feet tall. Resembling a Terran elk, these herbivores roam the plains in herds much like the Taurochs, and are the subject of much myth among the Seers. Aktaka’s are always portrayed as the most noble of beasts, one that all other beasts respect and admire. They are seen as diplomats and counselors, and often a Chief of peace and charisma is said to be reincarnated as a great Aktaka upon death. The 8th Company seeks to use this wisdom to supplement their fighting strength, striving to be great diplomats like their Primarch and bond themselves and their fellow Legionnaires with ties of brotherhood and honor.

IX: Urmatok led by Torga Tredt : 

Urmatok, the Keeper of Truth. These creatures are exceedingly rare, and the most ancient beings upon the face of the world. No animal lives as long as the mighty Urmatok. They are huge, weighing over 8000 lbs, and the largest ever recorded was about 20 feet tall. Often, these creatures are thought to be giant boulders, as their entire body is covered in thick shell. These shells over time are covered in moss and other vegetation, for the Urmatok only moves when it feels like it. Often it will spend months asleep, curled up inside its shell, digesting its food. They are solitary, and no one has ever seen an Urmatok mate with another, which leads to tales of Urmatok newborns being hatched from the rocks of the Spire. Beneath their shells they are covered in a downy fur, but have huge bear like claws that they use to dig up roots and insects. Their head is furry, but beaked like a turtle, and they move with incredible slowness. Though it does not matter, as they are the only creature on Varnis that has no actual known predators. If threatened, they simply lay down and seal themselves, and fall asleep. Their shells are impenetrable to anything nature can provide, and even mankind has a very difficult time. Due to their great age, they are seen as the wisest of all. There is a tale that the world was dreamt into being by the oldest of Urmatoks, and that they are all little fragments of his dream as he slumbers on. The world will end, when one day the Urmatok awakens. The 9th Company, practices this wisdom by attempting to be the most indomitable of their brothers. Nothing will faze them in battle, and nothing can move them from a position they have chosen to hold. Also, as if to honor the giant armored beast, the 9th Company takes on the responsibility of maintaining the heaviest of armored vehicles the Legion has. While seldom used, the Urmatoks patiently await the moment that they will be asked to awaken the massive tanks and ride them into battle once more.

X: Kravator led by Ragath Varock : 

 While the Avarok is the king of the skies, and Brokkous the rivers, Cathanars and Wahyur of the land; the fearsome Kravator is the undisputed king of the world. Being a world of a single continent, naval travel is not a very popular or well used method of transport among Varnisian culture. This is due both to the fact that all areas are accessible by land, and also because the Kravator makes seafaring voyages incredibly risky and dangerous. No one really knows exactly what a Kravator looks like, or how big it really is. Estimates place the beast at hundreds upon hundreds of feet long, and an unguessable weight. While no eye witness accounts exist, there are tales of entire fleets of ships vanishing into the gaping maw of a hungry Kravator. They are often depicted as giant, whale-like creatures, with a huge mouth and thousands of razor sharp teeth each as tall as a man. A long, webbed dorsal fin trails along its back, and it has a wide fluke. The 10th Company, last of the Wild Blades, pays homage to the mysterious and powerful creature by being as equally devastating on the field of battle, and leaving none to tell the tale.

Psykers are rare among the Wild Blades, as such there are currently only ten such gifted individuals within the entire Legion. These psykers bear the name of Seer, and serve much like the Seers of the old age. They keep the oral traditions of their Legion, serve as spiritual and moral guides for the Companies they are attached to, and as advisers to their Thanes. In addition to their varied psychic powers, Seers suffer from a form of foresight that takes place in their dreams, which tell them of a possible future. This gives Wild Blades Companies a distinct advantage on the battlefield, enabling their leaders to make plans for events foreseen by the Seers. 

The blade-culture of Varnis is still practiced strongly among the Legion, each Legionnaire forging his own blade after he passes the rigorous and challenging initiation phases on their homeworld. Upon death, these blades are interned into the Hall of Swords on Varnis, a massive mausoleum that contains the beloved weapons of every fallen brother, each marked with a plaque bearing their name and battle honors. Some blades, at the behest of the wielder, are passed on to their bothers to continue their service to the Legion. These weapons are some of the most treasured artifacts of The Wild Blades. It is customary for the next inheritor of such a blade to engrave its predecessors name upon the the weapon, and as such the oldest swords of the Legion are covered with names of fallen brothers who have carried them in glorious combat.

Loyalty, Honor, and Brotherhood are held in the highest regards among the Legion. They banter and bicker like the Clans of old; jest, feast, and fight to prove their strength. Seen from the outside, the Legion may seem undisciplined and chaotic. However, their prowess on the battlefield cannot be in question as they face their enemies head on, driving forward with speed and the ferocity of predators.

Hated Enemy: Due to their massive campaign against the Greenskin hordes within the Forridien system and the huge losses taken, the Wild Blades will execute any missions against these xenos with the highest of prejudice.

A Wild Blades Marine on his Outrider bike.

The Jumppack of Wild Blades aerial squads.

Javelin Attack Speeder armed with a missile launcher.

Scimitar Jetbike armed with a Volkite Culverin.
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