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post #241 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-20-14, 05:19 PM
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Name: Varial Nostros

Age: 137

Homeworld: Nostramo

Physical Appearance: Varial is tall for an Astartes, standing closer to eight feet tall at 7 foot 10.Varial also has a slim build though he is well muscled as well. His hair is jet black to match his pure black eyes to contrast to the pale corpse white skin that the Night Lord legion is known for. He keeps his face as clean shaven as possible and his hair is cut short. Varial’s back has two deep ugly scars running down the length of his back, a reminder of the orks which Varial has a particular hatred for.

Armour Appearance: The majority of Varial’s armour is taken from the newer sets of armour that has become available to the Adeptus Astartes, with the helm and body piece being taken from the Mark V armour and the shoulders, vambraces and lower half of the body being taken from the Mark IV Maximus armour. His armour like that of many of his fellow Night Lords is covered in motifs to inspire fear and dread into an enemy, bones of his enemies have been placed to cover his shin guards. His face guard has been outlined as well with the jaws of his enemies that he has deemed worthy of the honour. He has had spikes placed on his right shoulder pad of which he will place the first foe that he kills in a battles head upon until the campaign that he is participating in is complete. Once the campaign is complete he will throw the head away with disregard. Lightning motifs decorate his armour, one on his cheek and his legs being marked with another two.

Personality: Varial appears to most to be calm and collected when he is not in battle. While he is not the most vocal out of combat he says what he thinks. In battle however Varial is completely different. Due to his more violent upbringing on Nostraman and the fact that he was a criminal before he was inducted into the Night Lords Legion he fights like a possessed and crazed lunatic on the battlefield. Unless the mission requires a certain discipline Varial will leap into the frame laughing like a madman as he slices through enemies with his power sword or blows them apart with his missile launcher.

Marine Class: Legion Veteran

Background: Varial was born on the dark world of Nostramo, years after the Primarch had left it and it had become overrun with criminals and lowlifes once again. Varial father had been killed before he was born and after only a few years his mother had taken her life so that he was forced to live in the slums alone. At such a young age he was forced to steal and commit crimes to survive on Nostramo. He became a decent petty thief being able to steal things easily mainly due to his size before he underwent the transformation to become an Astartes.

At the young age of seven he joined a gang, though he was constantly tormented by one of the older members who would continually take from the more successful Varial thief leaving him angry and humiliated that he couldn’t stop it. A week after his eighth birthday he killed the boy, slicing his throat as he slept as he couldn’t take the humiliation anymore and allowed his anger to overcome him. Until he was caught and taken away he had committed another 12 murders, finding perverse pleasure in killing as he found a way to release his anger and emotions.

He was recruited from Nostramo prison, the process to change him into an Astartes caused him to grow taller than he had ever dreamed. During training it was noted that he excelled in the terror tactics finding pleasure in the ideals of it. His favourite weapons included the sword which he could eviscerate his opponents with, and he became adept at heavy weapons, most notably the missile launcher. He was assigned to the fourth on campaign once his training was complete and served in several campaigns including fighting orks that saw him earn the scars on his back, a ork chainblade ripping through his armour as he fought through them.

Weapons: Varials weapons consist of his beloved power sword long and sleek and kept to be jet black. His other weapon is his missile launcher, used to take out vehicles and enemy squads from afar which he wields as expertly as his sword.

Equipment: Melta bombs and frag and krak grenades.

Sorry for the delay was outta town for a few days.

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post #242 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-26-14, 05:11 PM Thread Starter
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Quick reminder for you all to get your posts up before the deadline, even though there is still awhile left, and that ive added in an update for you Ramo! Though for some reason the font changed.

Already, you exalt me for my triumphs, When I ask only that you remember me for my treacheries

Victory is nothing more than survival.
It carries no weight of honour or worth beyond what we ascribe to it.
If you wish to grow wise, learn why brothers betray brothers. - Khyron, First Grand Master of the Eighth Brotherhood.
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post #243 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-26-14, 07:42 PM
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Doubt I'll be getting much done today as its the celebration of my emergence into this place called life.

"Loyalty is its own reward."
Lion El'Jonson.
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post #244 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-26-14, 08:47 PM Thread Starter
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Lies Seraph! All know those who join my roleplays have no need for this thing called 'life'. You are all undead and slaved to my will to roleplay and post!

Happy Birthday bud.

Already, you exalt me for my triumphs, When I ask only that you remember me for my treacheries

Victory is nothing more than survival.
It carries no weight of honour or worth beyond what we ascribe to it.
If you wish to grow wise, learn why brothers betray brothers. - Khyron, First Grand Master of the Eighth Brotherhood.
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post #245 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-26-14, 08:49 PM
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I need to clear my plate a little before I can get my post up, but expect it in the next few days.

Happy Birthday Seraph!

The Silent Lions Chapter

Winter Falls


Give a man a match and he will be warm for a day.
Set a man on fire and he will be warm for the rest of his life.
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post #246 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-26-14, 10:58 PM
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Revan, I thought we agreed. You'd lay off the evil necromancy for this rp and in return I wouldn't steal your soul again.

Happy birthday Seraph

We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment - and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
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post #247 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-27-14, 10:29 AM
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Yeah, so I'm on holiday until the 31st and only saw the update a few days ago. I owed Unxpekted 2 updates worth or post, so I posted in his first. I'll try to get this done ASAP, but a rough ETA would be 31st-2nd of August.

Oh, and happy birthday for today/yesterday Seraph!

My contribution to the Renegades saga. Check it out

My growing IIIrd legion stuff:

17th Millenial (Homebrew Fluff) - "Children of the Emperor, death to his foes!" (Project Log)

Also my 30k tacticas, for those of you interested:

Crusade Army List tactica - Individual Legion tactica

Originally Posted by Angel of Blood View Post
And for two fucking grand, I could buy enough rum and hookers to 'artistically' recreate the better part of Pirates of the Caribbean.
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post #248 of 372 (permalink) Old 07-30-14, 06:29 AM
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I have returned from my holiday, so expect something up in the next few days. Hopefully today, work permitting.
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post #249 of 372 (permalink) Old 08-03-14, 06:46 PM
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Character Creation:Boxagonapus

Name: Serhiy Veres

Age: 148

Homeworld: Nostramo

Physical Appearance: All sons of Nostramo become pale eventually resembling mythical creatures from ages past but Serhiy's profession lends certain interesting qualities to his already disturbing appearance. Serhiy's entire person appears somewhat gaunt and emaciated from constant exposure to toxins and with the sickly skin exposing copious lightning patterned veins that contrast eerily with the general pattern of Night Lord armor. The sickly image goes further into his full makeup standing just above normal height at close to seven and a half feet but with a somewhat thinner appearance only serving to elongate his features and make him appear almost skeleton like. The exposure to toxins and radiation had damaged his respiratory system heavily and he now has a complex mechanical system stretching from a skeleton like metallic jaw down to the lungs themselves which wheeze and hiss as pumps force air in and out so that he may speak. Further radiation corrosion of bone marrow forced the need of skeletal petrifaction on the Destroyer adding to durability in the most agonizing of processes. His face, augmented by a metallic jaw and countless veins showing through the sickly skin is enough to turn the stomach of some men which Serhiy often uses to his advantage.

Armour Appearance:
Mark 3 armour tends to be an intimidating sight to begin with but adding to that chemical scalding and blackened marks from where fire engulfed the armor has led to this particular set to appear horribly maintained and ill kept despite whatever efforts were used. The bright white skull of the Destroyers is visible on the right pauldron with a screaming winged skull of the Night Lords protruding from the left flanking the chest piece covered in now corroding ribs to continue the appearance of death. All other attempts at iconography have failed over time and have been stopped. Hanging from his waist and from the innermost parts of his pauldrons with skulls dangling from some of them slowly eroding with time but still raking across the armour with every step. Finally the grim Mark 3 helmet has had the grill filed away faintly into fangs giving Serhiy the embodiment of death as he trudges forward into battle with plague and poison. The only real additions to the armor that serve a purpose are two large air filters attached to the face plate where canisters would appear on a gas mask that assist the suit in filtering toxic air. Aside from that the only other detail would be a general decay of the armour as it slowly descends into uselessness.

Personality: Serhiy may hail from Nostramo but some would say he's not Nostraman at all. He carries a killer instinct to be sure be he's slow and calculating. He may not be quick to anger but like a large pot over an open flame the water gets hotter and hotter until it boils over. Serhiy savors grudges and uses his time to inch the dagger closer to his foes heart until the final breath is drawn and the blood stops flowing. He enjoys watching others suffer and loathes wasting such an experience in a blood lust such as those damned fools that worship the flurry of battle and welcome the madness. His patience has earned the distrust of some because they see him as either weak or stupid but he watches and comments and shows necessary pleasantries until he has his moment to totally obliterate his foe. There is beauty in killing and watching the chemicals and radiation literally melt flesh away and the screams of those that see his work and his very visage make it all the more worthwhile.

Marine Class: Legion Veteran Destroyer

Born plunged into darkness and blood the young Nostraman knew only fear and death and like those that eventually would rise to the ranks in midnight clad he made that very fear his cloak. He befriended few and trusted fewer being one of the countless to live and die in the gutter of a miserable world. He did what he could to avoid trouble but found he'd been betrayed by one of the few people that he'd opened up to. His fury seethed and he marched right to him and was summarily pummeled by a much stronger individual. When the blood was dried and wiped away a painful lesson had literally been beaten into him. He became consumed with his own desire for blood and wanted to savor every moment of it.

Years passed and a 12 year old Serhiy was working in the horrific environment of chemical facilities doing little more than running cargo from area to area and he actually enjoyed apprenticing under much more seasoned workers understanding some of how they work. More importantly for him he saw how chemicals interact with flesh. His rage against his shaming carried him into illegal grounds and he smuggled one of the more toxic chemicals from the work area back to his own hovel and after carefully stalking the other boy tailed him to a more secluded area where shadows were his own. A heavy blow to the back of the head sent the boy sprawling to the floor alive but heavily dazed and unable to retaliate where he received a face full of scientific horror causing the older boy to scream in agony and only served to worsen the condition as he breathed in the toxic brew down into his lungs where it made quick work of him.

Unfortunately the theft of industrial chemicals and the subsequent murder that followed did little to improve his situation. He was found and taken by the Night Lords and immediately flourished from his lesson. Patience, the shadows, and terror became his ally as his body grew tremendously from an emaciated little boy to a super soldier in midnight clad. He found himself quite apt with flame weapons and other similar weapons designed to prolong suffering and eventually within the ranks of the Legion Destroyers. Considering his growth among an already toxic environment and his proclivity for such weapons he was considered admirable in a profession that literally eats away at the user until he's little more than goo. His greater restraint and patience to use such weaponry sparingly but with brutal efficiency garnered the gaze of more respected members within the Night Lord Hierarchy. When Nostramo burned there was no sad but rather a cathartic closure of an old nightmarish book and the continuing of a new one.

His reasoning for belonging amongst the most hardened and miserable cretins that Fourth Company can field comes from exceptional deployments involving the toxic liquidation of entire worlds to bring sectors into tow. It wasn't until a deployment as the sergeant of his own Destroyer legion stood on the same battlefield as Xandrek himself. They were to pacify a world with a hive city that had moved against the Imperium. Destroyers were on site in the event that examples were needed and the entire offensive was bogged down by a heavily fortified bunker. While the Lord of Lies discussed the options to avoid additional Night Lord casualties the veteran Destroyer took his squad in a long hike during the dead of night and pumped a horrible cocktail of toxic gas into the bunker. The results were grim and effective with only muffled screams and gurgling coming from within. The door was melta-bombed and upon discovery every inhabitant had fallen and were now bubbling masses surrounding skeletons that steamed from chemical burns each one twisted into poses of agony as they drew their final breath.

The beautiful scene of pestilence and suffering was recorded by the bases security feeds which were promptly liberated by Serhiy and broadcasted to the entirety of the hive city. The population of the hive city received a continuous loop of the gut retching death scenes and horrific moans and gargling as souls choked on their own liquefied internals. The only addition being the ghostly mechanical moaning of Serhiy himself as he grated "We have come for you" with all of the chilling nature of a winter wind winding through a cemetery. Within the following day the city had surrendered. The bunker was left behind as an ominous vigil to show the citizens what fate befalls those that would stand against them. This brutal efficiency impressed Xandrek earning him a place among his own. The Destroyer senses there may be some tension between the two over his choice to go around his command.


1 x combat knife
2 x bolt pistol
1 x chem-flamer

Bionics as a result of being a Destroyer : Lungs and bones
phosphex bombs
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post #250 of 372 (permalink) Old 08-03-14, 08:46 PM Thread Starter
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Already talked with you on skype about your character so get posting when you can, like i said. Var needs saving.

Already, you exalt me for my triumphs, When I ask only that you remember me for my treacheries

Victory is nothing more than survival.
It carries no weight of honour or worth beyond what we ascribe to it.
If you wish to grow wise, learn why brothers betray brothers. - Khyron, First Grand Master of the Eighth Brotherhood.
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