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post #11 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-12-14, 03:42 AM
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Originally Posted by unxpekted22 View Post
To address the question of whether or not you will be controlling squads based on your rank, the answer is no.

Your rank is, as Angle of Blood suggested, merely an indication of how high up that rank is. I just wanted to make sure everyone was clear where on the ladder those ranks are.

The "squad" and I use that term loosely, will mainly just be the group of players working together to survive.

I look forward too all of your character sheets. For those worried about going away for a couple weeks, I would suggest submitting a character before you leave, if possible, as it will almost certainly take a couple of weeks before the action thread goes up, anyway.

I will read over your submission, Deus, and PM you about any necesary edits I may find.

Oh and Revan, I am not sure, but I will try to look into it.

All fine Unexpeckted, changed to background to be captain of 44th instead of fourth, would of had it up yesterday but Santaire dragged me into a Civ 5 game on steam. Will try to finish it off today (though im really really tired at the time of this posting as i've had 5 hours sleep thanks to my dogs and i cant risk going to sleep again incase i miss my bus and miss going to the cinema which ive already pre-booked.)

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 #12 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-12-14, 10:33 AM
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Default Marcus Tharr

Name: Marcus Tharr
Legion: World Eaters
Rank: Sergeant – Tactical Squad
Age: 93
Appearance, Armour, and Wargear: Sergeant Marcus Tharr was of olive complexion with a long hooked nose. His copper eyes are slightly slanted with a tired expression tied to the them. His head is adorned with short cropped brown hair and thin almost cruel lips decorate his face. He is well muscled from his time in service as a space marine legionnaire and bears a multitude of scars from his days in training and beyond.

Sergeant Marcus Tharr of the World Eaters was equipped with MK III Iron Armour during he time of the Istvaan III virus bombing and following battles. His Power Armour donned the standard colouration scheme of the World Eaters, being white and naval blue with gold highlights, his helm is coloured a dull bronze to denote his veteran status. Black snake coil decals adorn his left and right arm in memory of his home world. The white skull knee pad on his left leg is for his valour in the subjugation of Varxas IV.

He is armed with a Legion Volkite charger, Mk II Mars Pattern bolt pistol, a standard combat knife and a Reaver Pattern Chain-axe. He is equipped with 4 charge packs for his Volkite Charger, 3 bolt pistol clips, 2 frag grenades, 2 krak grenades, 1 small armour repair kit, 1 weeks combat rations, 1 small medi-kit and 10 metres of spooled micro rope.

Personality: Marcus Tharr is an unsophisticated and straight forward man. He prefers to get into the thick of things and end any sort of conflict quickly and decisively. He embraces the over bearing assault doctrine of the World Eaters with relish and the martial pride of their legion. As the crusades ground on Marcus became increasingly embittered as what once was the proud warrior code of the World Eaters slowly became complete reckless abandon and wanton slaughter.

As a Feral World inhabitant the sudden inundation of strange and dangerous technology was quite shocking for him to bear. Powerful devices bordered on the realm of magic and he still has difficulty fully accepting some tools the legion uses. In particular cybernetics and mechanical replacements to flesh, rejecting the butchers nails despite claims of cowardice from his fellow legionnaires. Such insults were soon silenced by his martial prowess.

The recent news that their Primarch has abandoned them came as a great shock to Marcus and has been seething with a cold fury over it ever since.

Background: Marcus was born on the feral world of Balakr. Balakr is a harsh and hard place but verdant with many deep shadowy forests that mask valleys and mountain sides. Once dotted with many magnificent cities gleaming with the technology of the dark age, the surge of the warp storms and horrific creatures tore apart society, soon the great forests reclaimed the land. Horrific Bio beasts still roam the land, a relic from a lost age, feasting on scattered and terrified tribes. Marcus was one such tribesman who valiantly slew a vat terror and took the head back to his tribe. A World Eater apothecary took note of him on a routine recruit gathering tenure and inducted Marcus into the Legion.

After completing his training and becoming a full fledged legionnaire Marcus served valiantly and well in all aspects of war. He took pride however in keeping his fellow legionnaires alive and the respect he earned with such deeds. Always ever serious he berates his comrades when they neglect to maintain their training or become lax when on duty. His victory over a vicious Ork Nob during the battle of Scuta I promoted him to the rank of sergeant. Initially he wanted to be inducted in as an assault squad sergeant but was instead relegated to a tactical squad for his overall flexibility. He continued to serve admirably until a boarding mission above the smog choked hives of Scovia which his squad failed to secure the munitions vault of a xenos cruiser and was reprimanded.

During the period of testing for the new 'butcher's nails' Marcus refused to be implanted with such foreign technology. This caused other World Eaters to have doubts about Marcus' ability, particularly those in higher command with the ear of Angron. This cast a shadow over Marcus and other fellow legionnaires who abstained from the rite, a shadow that only grew deeper as the taint of chaos spread, soon enough Marcus and other like-minded legionnaires were slowly being segregated for the final decisive blow against them. He could only watch in horror as his fellow legionnaires turned slowly from proud warriors to worthless frothing berserkers.

Extra note: So is this fine? I can always make changes or make it longer. I didn't want to over do the background and personality so I tried boiling it down a bit.

Last edited by Darius O's; 07-13-14 at 01:00 PM.
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post #13 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-12-14, 11:55 AM
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Originally Posted by revan4559 View Post
All fine Unexpeckted, changed to background to be captain of 44th instead of fourth, would of had it up yesterday but Santaire dragged me into a Civ 5 game on steam. Will try to finish it off today (though im really really tired at the time of this posting as i've had 5 hours sleep thanks to my dogs and i cant risk going to sleep again incase i miss my bus and miss going to the cinema which ive already pre-booked.)
*cough* As I understand it, I was the one who actually pointed this thing out to you. If I hadn't I doubt you'd ever have noticed it so thanks should be in order rather than accusations.

This looks good unxpekted, I'll see what I can do

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The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
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post #14 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-12-14, 09:34 PM
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I'd love to get in on this, but I just don't have the time. But it's a great story and a good group of players showing their interest, so I'll be following this closely.

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 #15 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 04:33 PM
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Name: Kyros Straesen
Legion: World Eaters
Rank: Sergeant, 7th Assault Squad, 10th Company
Age: 113
Appearance: Kyros, were one to go on appearances might think he would fit in better with the preening Emperor's Children, what with his blue eyes and shoulder length hair is blond, held back and out of his eyes by a simple leather cord. Standing 7'3 and possessing a strong, well muscled build he has fairly average physical traits for an Astartes.

Granted a set of MK IV 'Maximus' pattern armor, Kyros' armor features two purity seals on left breast of his chest plate as well as an additional seal on his combat shield. His white and blue armor is always resplendent and kept in immaculate order, his white helmet is accented with the 'world eaters teeth' (no pointed ring) painted over the respirator vox grille in bright red, an indicator on the battlefield of his veteran status and rank of sergeant.

His weaponry consists of a dual headed power axe that features bronze accents around the pommel, adamantium studs marking the haft and the head of the weapon. Though it is a rather plain weapon it is quite obvious that great care and diligence was offered the weapon by the artificer that crafted it. In his left he wields an equally well crafted plasma pistol which also sports bronze trimmings. While the plasma pistol looks rather plain, it is clear that the tech priest that fabricated the weapon took the utmost care in its creation. The weapon features a slightly different firing cycle than those wielded by many of his compatriots, though the weapon does not possess the match trigger of a bolt pistol, its cooling and charge cycle has been expertly honed to firing with only the most minimal pause in between shots wherein the pistol's cooling vents cycle on in order to allow the magnetic coils to cool significantly enough to make the weapon ready for subsequent shots. It is of course equipped with a thumb toggle for emergency venting. Upon investigation of the weapon the Company TechMarine Hykaz remarked to Kyros "This pistol is identical on the outside, and there is no reason that it should function differently from any others in this series assembled on Mars, and yet it is so. Perhaps it was destined by the Emperor to be placed into the hands of an assault marine such as yourself Brother Kyros." Hykaz also implied in private that he should keep the weapon close and at the ready prior to their drop to Istvan III, the TechMarine sensing something amiss before boarding his own dropship with the 12th Tactical Squadron never to be seen again by Kyros. In addition to the pistol he also wields a a combat shield affixed to his left arm, adorned with a single purity seal, a filigree across the top baring the script that reads Kyros' name and his station with the 10th Company's 7th Assault Squad. As with any assault marine worth his weight he carries the requisite 2 frag and 2 krak grenades.

Personality: Kyros is an Astartes who values both the honing and training of the mind in addition to training for combat, feeling that a warrior must be keen mentally in order to take keen action on the battlefield. This stands in stark contrast to many of his battle brothers who seek only the complete destruction of their enemies. While Kyros is dutiful in his execution of his missions and in prosecution of the enemies of the Imperium, he does so in a more surgical manner, feeling that wanton slaughter for the sake of slaughter is unbecoming of the Legion. That said, his white armor is no less blood stained than any of his Brother Sergeants within the XII Legion, his tenacity in battle had well known within the 10th Company until the aftermath of the Arrigata Campaign. Kyros is fully loyal to the Emperor and his vision for Imperium.

Background: Kyros' fall into disfavor began at the planet Arrigata, while the World Eaters had been tasked with killing only the leadership of the planet, their heavily fortified capital building caused such great losses among the World Eaters that to breach the fortress members of the XII Legion had to clambor over a mountain of their dead battle brothers to breach the walls. Once inside all thought of simply executing the mission went out as every defender within the fortress walls was summarily ripped and torn to shreds with chainblades, axes, even gauntleted hands. Then only a member of the 7th Assault squad, Kyros had asked his then Sergeant, an Astartes named Varkus, why it had been acceptable for them to disobey the orders of the WarMaster, he was chided and berated, told that any insurgent who had killed or took part in killing any of their battle brothers deserved ten fold worse than the death they had received. That being slaughtered like cattle was too good for them.

Sergeant Varkus was quite soon after called up to become a member of the Command Squad of the 10th Company, while much of the then 7th Assault Squad was split up, with many of the current members placed into other assault squads. The official reason given was so that depleted assault squadrons that had taken heavy losses would retain some veteran presence. Varkus openly stated that Kyros would be an ill suited Sergeant as he did not possess the savagry needed of a World Eaters Sergeant, the explanation he was given being "There is something we see within Kyros Straessen, and thus he will be the Sergeant of the 7th Assault Squad." Kyros was promoted to Sergeant of the 7th Assault Squad, its ranks filled primarly with relatively newly christened Astartes, most barely aged 85 terran years. The eldest member of the squad was the plasma pistol wielding veteran Rasur, aged 130 terran years. The veteran offered what guidance and wisdom he could to Kyros during their time serving together. The 7th Assault Squad took on the derogatory nickname "The Whelps" based on the young ages of their Sergeant and the majority of the squad as well as the widespread notion that they were comprised of wholly naive and soft battle brothers. The latter sentiment grated Kyros the most, simply because he put stock in orders and reason beyond simply slaughtering the enemy he and his squad were viewed as 'soft'. He cared little for his own ego, but felt that it was detrimental to those who served with him to constantly be derided as lesser Astartes because of some cloud that hung over him.

In addition to seeking true justification for disobeying orders, Kyros had the additional misstep of refusing the implantation of Butcher's Nails, believing them to be an unnecessary augmentation. His feelings never changed on the implants, especially as he viewed them as a xenos tech, despite the Primarch Angron's use of them. Furthermore, he felt that it was a token of history of an aristocracy that sought to imprison the Primarch, and that it was the Emperor, who eschewed such use of xenos implantation and tech that had freed their Lord. Though Kyros believed his stance to be noble and justified, wishing to remain in control of his faculties whilst in combat, the very moments when one would most need to have the keen mental edge and awareness of tactics beyond simply rushing in and slaughtering their enemies. While he left the option open to every Astartes who served under him, those young Astartes under his command opted to follow his lead. Little did he know then, that by doing so they had confirmed their fate in the eyes of their Captain and other leaders.

Upon discovering that he was to be part of the First Wave of the assault on Istvan III Kyros could do little to hide his excitement, remarking to Rasur that this would be an opportunity to prove that the 7th Assault Squad was honorable and worthy of the respect of the entire Company. The opportunity to gain back the respect of the Company weighing heavily on him, Kyros failed to read the signs that something odd was happening. His squad was not the only that had been re-tasked, re-organized or otherwise had major changes in personnel in recent months, something rather unusual for Astartes. Had he a keen eye, he might have also taken note that many if not all of the Battle Brothers whom he still saw in the Reclusium of the 10th Company's warship "Unto War" were among those who were destined for the first wave of the planetary invasion. While those who's volatile tempers flared into near frenzy at the slightest provocation with the augmented butcher's nails in their neck, those who had begun to revel in the slaughter they wraught, those were the Astartes held in reserve for the second wave of attack. Had he placed his desire for redemption of his Lords and peers aside, he might have seen the hammer blow that was about to befall him and his squadron.

While on the surface of Istvann III, Kyros was executing his mission, battling with resistance deep within the catacombs when the virus bombs struck the surface. He then realized he had not been given a great honor, the chance to lead his battle brothers in service of the World Eaters and the Imperium. No, they had been cast out, turned upon and betrayed completely. They had deemed that he was not savage enough, not brutal enough to be a true World Eater...If they made landfall he would show them true savagery, true brutality. He would avenge himself, his fallen brothers who were undoubtedly dead on the surface of the planet. Kyros Straesen would ensure that he killed as many of these Traitor scum as he could before he himself fell, this was the oath he swore to himself within the moments after the virus bombs struck.

Last edited by Krymson86; 07-17-14 at 05:18 PM.
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post #16 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 04:56 PM
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Is that two World Eaters without the Butcher's Nails? Well now what will Tiberius have to be condescending about? I'm sure he'll think of something

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 #17 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 05:00 PM
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Originally Posted by Deus Mortis View Post
Is that two World Eaters without the Butcher's Nails? Well now what will Tiberius have to be condescending about? I'm sure he'll think of something
My Son of Horus will be condescending enough about your pretty boy, don't worry.

Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.

"No one ever spoke about of those two absent brothers. Their separate tragedies had seemed like aberrations. Had they, in fact, been warnings that no one had heeded?"

'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Yes, lord.'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
'No, lord.'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'
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post #18 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 06:26 PM
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Name: Decius Vultus

Rank: Standard Bearer

Age: 216

Legion: Sons of Horus

Appearance: Decius stands at around seven and a half feet which is average for the Legiones Astartes. He has a completely shaven head as well keeping his face clean shaven as well, as he has no desire to preen himself. Decius left leg is augmented and his lower back is heavily scarred from an explosion that he was too close to in the Ullanor campaign with shrapnel from an exploding vehicle causing most of the scarring.

Decius armour is a mix of Mark III and Mark IV armour that has been scrapped together over the years of fighting, with the gauntlets and greaves being of the Mark III variety to allow him better protection so he does not drop the standard, and the rest the Mark IV. Decius battle armour is worn from the fighting and there are burn and bullet marks covering the armour. Decius has a lightning bolt engraved on his right gauntlet, as well as a further two smaller ones engraved upon his helm.

Wargear: Decius carries the Second company of the Sons of Horus banner, and to protect it he carries a plasma pistol and chainsword.

Personality: Decius is a driven and determined marine, found at the fore of the battle as he holds his companys standard proudly aloft and uses it to try and inspires others forwards. He is a follower in tradition and looks down on those members of the legion that joined the warrior lodges. A firm believer in the Emperor’s cause and being a Terran he has been increasingly more worried with the Legion’s behaviour as of late.

History: Born on the world of Terra, the very place where the Emperor first began his push to the stars in an effort to unite humanity. Decius was born into the hunters in the Jutigran bowl, and had to survive in the harsh environment there before he was accepted into the new Emperor of mankinds forces to become one of the Legiones Astartes.

Decius was elevated to the Luna Wolves legion upon successful completion of his training and genetic modifications and fought in the pacification of Luna as a legionnaire as the Emperor began to expand to the stars. Soon they encountered the world of Cthonia were the Emperors lost son Horus was found. Taking charge of the Luna Wolves they continued to grow and develop as a Legion, continuing to be known for their shock attacks.

Early on in the Ullanor campaign Decius was caught in an explosion after a predator that he had been near to had exploded from ork rocket fire and Decius as a result lost his left leg. He was gifted a augmented replacement and swiftly returned to the battlefield to take part in the final missions of the campaign. Decius finest hour came during one of the closing battles of the Ullanor campaign when the standard bearer for the 2nd, Decius own company was killed by and Ork, beheading him. Decius rushed forward and grabbed hold of the standard before his brother had fallen to ensure that it wouldn’t touch the ground and killed the Ork with a plasma shot to the face. Decius spent the rest of the battle protecting the standard and urging his brothers forward whilst he hacked down greenskins with his chainsword. At the end of the campaign for his devotion and action Decius was given the honour of carrying the Second’s standard into battle and became its banner bearer.

Since that day Decius has carried the standard of the second into battle proudly and fought on the hellish world of murder, finding himself a certain disdain towards the Emperor’s Children after their Lord Commander Eidolon had proven himself to be a fool seeking only glory not matter the cost manpower wise.

He was deemed by Horus and the traitors to be too loyal to the Emperor and was sent with his captain Tarik Torgaddon to the surface of Istavaan III to fight the rebellious forces bellow, something with which Decius had decreed was a great honour, unaware of what was about to befall the loyalists.

Last edited by Lord Ramo; 07-14-14 at 12:39 AM.
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post #19 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 07:21 PM Thread Starter
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Hey everyone just want to point this out:

"by the time of the Horus Heresy (volkite weapons) were a rarity and had been replaced by the more flexible and easy to manufacture bolter.[1]"

I will think on it, but I may cut down on some of these volkite weapons I'm seeing. Just a heads up.

You can never be prepared for the unexpected

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post #20 of 201 (permalink) Old 07-13-14, 08:59 PM
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Name: Akkad Krateron.

Legion: Sons of Horus.

Rank: Legionary.

Age: 194.

Appearance: A Cthonian to the boot, with wide-set, amber eyes and a strong, dignified nose; resembling Horus Lupercal himself, one of the true Sons of Horus. Krateron's head is shaved smooth, oiled and glistening, with a single tall, unbowed topknot extending from his crown, tied with red, gold and orange ribbons. Krateron is decidedly ordinary - Neither handsome nor ugly, threatening or welcoming, - With a warm, unassuming smile; one Marine among tens of thousands, someone who lacks any defining physical features, the epitome of the faceless, numberless warrior.

Krateron's armour is a bastardised mixture of Mark II and Mark III, denoting his veteran status. Upon his gauntlets, greaves and torso, Krateron has hand-scrawled old gang markings, a heritage that many believe is best left in the past. He proudly bears the Cthonian serpent-eye upon his left shoulder-pad, in place of the standard Legion heraldry - Earning the right after a tenure amongst the Catulan Reavers. Around his waist, on the left, Krateron wears a trio of skulls, each dipped in gold - Enemy leaders, two Orks and an Eldar, the Eye of Horus carved into each of their foreheads. On his hip, he wears eight coins, seven smooth and shining, mirror-coins awarded for honour upon the battlefield, one rough and beaten, marked with a wolf's-head and a crescent moon. His helmet bears a long, flowing plume of scarlet horsehair, with a diagonal scratch over his right eyepiece, deliberately carved, to mark blooding in battle.

Equipment: Krateron carries a power-active blade of Cthonic bluesteel, gifted to him by the late, vaunted Syrakul, of the Mournival, after defending the injured warrior in battle. Upon this blade he has bestowed the name of Oathkeeper, inscribed along the sword's length in artful, golden scroll-work. Mag-locked to his thigh, Krateron carries a shorter, stouter blade - A gladius - Meant for stabbing and hacking, and this he has named Aebathan, the Cthonian word for throat-cutting. He also carries a bolter, marked with the Eye of Horus, and a bolt-pistol; both nameless, both unworthy of distinction.

Personality: Fiercely proud of his Cthonian roots, and utterly dedicated to war-making in the name of Horus Lupercal, Krateron is the poster-boy of the Sixteenth. Ruthless and tenacious, with a grim, cruel humour to him, Krateron has few friends within the Legion - Though many know his face, and more his name, his reputation as a steadfast, unfaltering Astartes preceding him. Krateron is distasteful of the Order of Remembrancers, believing that they have no place with the Expeditionary Fleets, refusing their requests with that harsh, growling tone of Cthonia. Despite this, Krateron keeps to himself, usually quiet and reserved, scowling and spitting.

Background: Born to a whore, Krateron spent his early years in a Cthonian sump-hive, in the warrens and underworld cities. In his youth, Krateron crossed paths with Serghar Targost, and the two soon became inseparable, Krateron becoming his oldest, staunchest and truest friend. Just after his fifth birthday, Krateron's mother was brutally murdered, orphaning a boy who had known nothing else but blood, piss and heartbreak. He and Targost, another beggar-boy, soon found themselves falling in with the Cthonian head-hunters; harsh, lusty, greedy men - But men who offered them protection, a roof to sleep under, food to warm their guts. By the time the boys were six, they had already butchered their first man, hacking him down with daggers of glass. By ten, they knew how to slit a man's throat without him being alerted, how to pickpocket, they knew the home-tongue perfectly, each and every hand-signal. When this is considered, it comes to no surprise that the two were inducted into the Legion, to follow Horus unto the stars.

As a Luna Wolf, Krateron's life was constant bloodshed, constant butchery and, most satisfyingly, victory after victory. Where Targost was a star ascendant, rising through the ranks, Krateron chose to remain in his shadow - Once being described as 'Targost's hound,' by another Legionary and friend, Nal Verustan, born of Terra. On a hundred worlds, Krateron honed himself, becoming a weapon, an instrument of destruction - Never far from Targost's side, being the first to congratulate him after his promotion to Captain, and stewardship of the Seventh Company.

During the Gorro Hollowing, Targost and the Seventh were one of the spearheads, penetrating the scrap-world's rusted surface. The going was hard and bloody, and Krateron himself was felled, his hip and leg shattered by an Orkish hammer, and it was Targost who stood over his friend, hacking and slashing at the Greentide, until Krateron could be extracted. Weeks of recovery followed, his bones being knit back together, his muscles needing constant hours of therapy. While he lay, cot-ridden, Kalus Ekaddon visited him, and asked Krateron to serve within his assault company, the Catulan Reavers. Honoured, Krateron readily accepted, and when he was back in order, painted his armour the black and crimson of the Reavers. He remained with the Reavers until Ullanor, fighting where it was fiercest, making a name for himself, but upon the conclusion of the Campaign and the Emperor's announcement that he was done with the Crusade, Krateron requested a transfer back to the Seventh.

Present at Sixty-Three Nineteen, Krateron was once again injured, though he remained unbowed, a smoking hole punched through his stomach. Sometime prior to this campaign, Krateron crossed blades with Sigismund of the Imperial Fists, and was vaunted by the First Captain for his skill with the blade. Afterwards, Krateron would be amongst the first to land upon Murder, alongside Serghar Targost once again, and during this time he came to dislike the Emperor's Children, decrying them a 'bunch of prancing peacocks and tuneless songbirds,'

Despite his illustrious career, Krateron has never sought advancement through the ranks, and has been denied any such opportunity by the influence of Targost, who has preferred to keep his friend close, a bloody, reliable, right hand.

He would later take part in the War with the Interex, though he found it unworthy of praise, and afterwards, would watch as Horus was carried aboard the Vengeful Spirit, above Davin, fatefully injured. In these dark days, the Legion changed, it became something darker - Krateron found himself becoming disillusioned with the Sixteenth, every campaign a bitter blow to his resolve, friendships were frayed, brotherhoods were broken. Still, he served loyally in the war with the Auretian Technocracy, and afterwards, after news of Vardus Praal's revolt, vowed to retake the Isstvan System.

And so it is, that Akkad Krateron, Cthonian and Son of Horus, has been selected for the first wave of the Isstvan III Compliance.

Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.

"No one ever spoke about of those two absent brothers. Their separate tragedies had seemed like aberrations. Had they, in fact, been warnings that no one had heeded?"

'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Yes, lord.'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
'No, lord.'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'

Last edited by dark angel; 07-13-14 at 10:40 PM.
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