hi deus, not sure how good this is or if it's what your looking for
it's what came to mind from my research
i'm happy to change if you are not happy with it
Appearance: Built like a brick and not much better looking, he is solidly built, average height yet a little broader across the chest. His black hair is cropped short above a square jaw, his skin pale and sallow, a block of ice providing a frame for sparkling blue eyes.
His armour was once gilded however is now plain and simple, like a monk he ensures it is unadorned as he strips his soul to it's base to deal with his conscience beneath. The daemon hammer too has been stripped of all gilding and is a bare black mass of jet black.
Personality: Though currently amid turmoil none can doubt his faith and loyalty to the emperor, with his question not of the emperor whom he worships unashamedly but of the beaurocrats that claims to do his will.
Normally he is a man happy in the service of the emperor,truly fulfilled by his life amongst the emperor's elite. A hard worker and loyal comrade he is neither quick to anger nor to council considered in his words and unflinching in his attachment to duty.
His teachers told him he would remember nothing of his past life. He only remembers the darkness.
In truth that is all he would remember.
Born in the bowels of a black ship to two psykers slipping into madness he grew up in darkness, lived in darkness, became one with the darkness.
And then he saw the light.
Praise to the emperor who brought him into the light.
It was not just the light of the sun, the warmth on his face, the light of the emperor, that pure beacon blazing through the tempestuous malstrom of the warp
Who could not fall to their knees before such beautiful light.
It was that light that drew him through the trials, through agony and temptation he remained true and stoic yet that was where he peaked. As a warrior he is unexceptional amongst his compatriots. He is strong with sword and bolter yet he will never be amongst the elite swords or shots of the chapter. As a psyker too he is strong with a good grasp over many disciplines yet once again he does not stand out.
However when you are an astartes even the most average are heroes, yet Eriban's moment came in the months of shame when all moments were tainted.
As part of the 8th he was not part of Armaggedon's glorious sorrow but became part of a tit for tat war against their lupine brethren. His sense of shame and frustration built as the bloodshed spread across worlds and galaxies, the bitter taste building in his throat as he looked upon the charred corpses of civilians who had only heard the faintest whispers of armaggedon let alone seen it encased in flame.
Yet these orders came with the seal of the light and so they kept on even as the voices of the dissenters rose.
It was above Fenris as the sky boiled and ships burned to ash and astartes fought astartes that Eriban had his moment. He was upon the vessel of Inquistor Carrusi of the Ordo Malleus as they held Fenris to ransom. As wolves boarding torpedos breached their hull he was amongst them. His best moment in his chapter's worst.
He slew with impunity and wolves burnt with a casual flick of his thoughts, crumpled at his swords caress and buckled under the rattle of his bolter. Even as the wolves rampaged through the ship maddened by feral indignation and his squad mates fell he did not buckle or break. Even as he retreated over the bodies of guardsman, retinue and his own brothers, he slew til he stood back to back with the inquisitor.
Bolters empty, blades blood sodden his sanity hanging onto the seal that stamped his orders even though his heart screamed and tears ran down his face to mingle with the wolf blood that soaked the floor.
Bjorn the fell handed called end to the slaughter yet neither Inquisitor nor grey knight felt relief, only sorrow as they looked upon the piles of corpses that surrounded them, the wolves looking upon them with barely disguised disgust.
Even as the 8th limped home bruised and depleted Eriban fell to silence, lost in reflection his nod wordless as Inquisitor Carussi requested his company upon his next mission until he could rebuild his retinue.
A tasty little daemonic possession took him to the segmentum pacificus and though the task was well beneath him it seemed Carussi understood his need to reflect and the path that put him on. As such they travelled together in silence as both reflected upon the months of shame their first words coming at their parting. Months of silence had provided them no answers yet comforting words provided them some fleeting solace.
Inquisitor Garden's call for aid had been answered yet the squad was reported to be under strength and brief contact with Brotherhood champion jarius was met with a request for Eriban to join them.
Eriban has met the request with vigour yet thoughts of his future are consumed by the conflict of his present. He longs only to do the emperor's work yet the seal that signed off mass slaughter of fellow loyal astartes haunts him still. Though silence is no longer his ally, there is a corner of his mind that is constantly cornered from his brothers and it is their that his thoughts so often lie.
Psychic discipline: Defensive Magic
Equipment: Aegis Power armour, Nemesis Daemonhammer, Storm Bolter, Frag grenades, Krak grenades, Psyk-out grenades
kudos to lillian thorne for the awesome sig
Last edited by deathbringer; 06-19-14 at 06:59 AM.