Physical Appearance: Outside of his armour, Pelegon stands at seven and a half feet in height - while once excessively muscular and bulky, even by astartes standards, he has intentionally limited both his training and nutritional intake over the last eight months in an effort to shed some bulk to make himself more suited to stealth - the end result is a marine of average physical proportions for his height. The Iron Warrior's skin, once dark and swarthy like that of all Olympians, has greyed thanks to the mechanicus assimilation that he has inflicted upon himself, and an utter lack of any form of exposure to sunlight. Unusually for a marine, Pelegon is fairly hirsute, with moderate levels of dark body hair on his arms, legs, chest and stomach.
On closer inspection of Pelegon's skin, a viewer would notice that some of the bulging veins appear to be odd colours (carrying, as they sometimes do, substances other than blood), and that some of his muscles appear to be grey, nearly metallic in appearance beneath his thin skin - though not directly robotic, the assimilation that has partially mechanised the marine, making him compatible for further implant instalments and reducing his need for oxygen, is noticeable.
Pelegon has, in the IVth legion style, grown his hair to a moderate length on the top of his head, and adds a little oil to it to keep it shining and slicked back in a single smooth wave, without a parting. This conceals the layer of cranial armour over his skull. Regarding other modifications, he has submitted himself to one of the most painful, yet effective, treatments of skeletal petrifaction; his skeleton has had liquefied metals injected directly into the marrow, making his already resilient bone structure nearly indestructible, given away by how hard and solid any bony protrusions (such as the jaw or kneecaps) would feel, combined with how hard he can now punch as a result.
The marine's throat is, when he does not speak, apparently perfectly normal. However, speech reveals the minute, complex system that lies beneath his vocal chords, miniature pistons, air pumps and septums moving, expanding and controlling air flow. While this used to give the Iron Warrior a semi-mechanised growl for a voice, the strains and peculiarities of the Nostraman tongue have necessitated his modifying it, returning his voice to a more human, if still bassy, tone.
Facially, Pelegon is dark-eyed, square-jawed and ruggedly handsome, the only mar on his face being a badly crooked nose from where it was broken from the force of his own helmet being slammed into it on multiple occasions.
Armour Appearance: Pelegon has two suits of armour; the first, now rarely worn, is his own personally-crafted artificer armour, modelled to resemble his favourite design; the Mk III "Iron" power armour. Lacking any form of embellishment bar the Iron Skull of Peturabo, forgoing even the brass trim and yellow-and-black hazard stripes adopted by some of his comrades, the armour is as brutally plain as it is functional - the only exception to this are the eyes. Coming from the sloping, knightly face-plate of the Mk. III doppelgänger, they burn a bright incandescent blue. The armour is iron-grey, and is a shining example of craftsmanship, as Pelegon painstakingly cleans it whenever, wherever he can, believing maintenance of his equipment to be of paramount importance.
Made of the most purified, highest-density ceramite that Pelegon could acquire as a reward for his flawless service, folded with his own bare hands countless times, the armour offers a layer of protection that most power armour users can only dream of. Thanks to the nature of the work that he had to do when cleansing the Hrudd warrens during the Great Crusade, it also has an embedded Siege Auspex; an auspex with much less range than a standard model, but enormous penetrating capacity to compensate for it.
The second suit of armour, personally crafted by Pelegon in the Maiden of Sorrow's forges - having proven himself to be more than technologically capable, he was rewarded use of the forge to make a new suit of armour, his old unsuited for the particular requirements of Night Lord warfare. Based heavily on MkIV, but borrowing elements from its new, lighter MkVI cousin, it is considerably lighter, with few overlapping plates and heavy degrees of curvature offset by hardened, pointed edges - somewhat akin to the armour favoured by the XVIth Legion's Reavers. Forged the midnight blue of the Night Lords, it has only three signs that betray its owners origins; the legion emblem on the left pauldron is the Iron Skull of Perturabo, framed with the VIIIth's red bat wings, the armour lacks gold trim on any parts bar the edges of the pauldrons, and its helm's faceplate is forged into the shape of Perturabo's Iron Skull, albeit blue rather than iron-grey.
Unlike Pelegon's other suit of armour, the MkV, as he calls it (though it is no true MkV, but rather a term used due to its mixture of MkIV and MkVI design) is lightweight as well as protective, better designed to allow him to sneak and move with the speed and stealth the Night Lords so favour. With reinforced joints, careful maintenance and the power supply unit of a MkVI suit (looted from one of the many Raven Guard corpses aboard the Nightfall), the armour makes little to no noise when either moving or standing still. Hanging from a chain at his waist, Pelegon carries only two trophies; the mummified heads of two foes, mouths and eyes stitched shut. The first, slightly larger, is bald and on its browned skin dark tattoo swirls are still visible. The second is covered in a curtain of lank black hair, its pallor leaving its VIIIth Legion origins no mystery.
However, the Iron Warrior only wears his armour when he knows conflict to be impending; for the most part he silently stalks the halls of the Maiden of Sorrow in heavy-duty boots, dark grey BDU trousers and a midnight blue tank top, with whatever tools he needs attached to his belt - for the most part, this is for both exercise and to test his own abilities, learning to rely more on dodging blows than simply weathering them.
Personality: Like all Olympians, Pelegon is extremely intelligent; calculating, careful and methodological in his approaches, he views all problems as puzzles that need to be pieced together, or, as the situation requires, broken apart. Cold and relentless in the way that he conducts every action, the end always justifies the means for Pelegon, and this was a mentality that allowed him to excel when he was made an Iron Warrior. But the one quality that has most helped him throughout his existence is his iron will; Pelegon will never accept any compromise, no matter how small, of either himself or others, and will not be shaken when determined to walk a particular path. Pain is little barrier to him, causing him merely to grit his teeth harder and push on to the other side. Retreat is understandable, sometimes even a tactically sound, favourable option, but surrender is unthinkable.
However, what sets Pelegon aside from his fellows in the IVth legion is his ability to put aside his differences under a mask of seemingly genuine affability, allowing him to blend in and socialise with members of the other legions very well, this ability earning him tasks as a liaison officer more often than not. That he can do this with a mechanical growl for a voice and a slope of iron for a face is testament to his choices of vocabulary, body language and general demeanour.
Marine Class: Veteran (Liaison Officer)
Background: Born into a middle-class family on Olympia, Pelegon was raised into a highly competitive environment, one in which the strong led and prospered and the weak died in droves at their feet, their flesh forming mountains which the mighty could better use to elevate themselves. Thus the most fit to survive, those most fit to push the boundaries and limits of their society forward were being constantly discovered and encouraged.
When the forces of the Emperor arrived on Olympia, Pelegon was but a boy. He crawled into one of the eyries that formed the planet's mighty fortresses and watched from afar as the Lord of Iron, their mighty warlord and later primarch, ordered his assembled legion to commit ritual decimation. The mighty warriors, obedient yet unwilling to show pain, died without a sound as they had their necks wrung by their own fellows. Pelegon witnessed first hand the cost of their lord finding his men wanting, and from that day swore that one day he would please him, that he would strive his utmost to become a marine and prove his worth. Far from traumatized, but in fact inspired, the young boy studied and trained both mind and body to and beyond breaking point, earning his place as an astartes in the IVth legion.
This attitude carried him far; though he had no particular self-preservation instincts, where innumerable of the IV's finest died around him, the flower of Olympia's male youth bleeding, bullet-riddled wrecks in shattered armour that had become their coffins, Pelegon endured, relentlessly training and striving to improve himself. It was here that his somewhat more social attitude (at least more social than other Iron Warriors who rarely spoke even to each other) allowed him to learn from the marines of other legions who he encountered, giving him a wide variety of skills that made him deadly both at a distance and up close. Highly proficient with a variety of weapons, Pelegon found no equal in either his martial prowess or dedication to self improvement. With his unique plethora of abilities, Pelegon was given the option of choosing which, if any, specialisation he would like to take; the Iron Warrior decided that he would focus primarily on wielding, manipulating and coordinating heavy weaponry, earning himself a position as an Iron Havoc, the IVth legion's finest supporting infantry. Through years of battle experience and copious quantities of expended ammunition, Pelegon perfected his aim with a variety of heavy weapons and artillery pieces, sending many a vehicle crew to their doom with the squeeze of a trigger, though he never allowed this ability to come at the expense of others, rigorously training and sparring with his brothers when possible, even volunteering for positions as an assault squad member to better hone his melee capabilities.
When breaking the Hrud fortresses of planet Gugann, Pelegon's technical expertise and ability to make split-second calculations was finally noted, when he designed an extremely elaborate system of tunnels that ran parallel to those in the Hrud's warrens, complete with a way of tunnelling them that had a low chance of detection. The plan was to fill the tunnels with Iron Warriors, then break the thin partitioning wall that lay between their tunnels and the Hrud's, thus providing a constant flow of the grey-clad warriors behind the Xenos' walls. The success of this tactic saw Pelegon, little more than an (albeit decorated) Iron Havoc, a high-ranking veteran but no officer, given an option; to either work as a permanent liaison officer, or see himself driven up the ranks to Siege-Breaker, one step below Captain, that itself one below Warsmith, one of the most coveted and treasured positions any Iron Warrior could hold.
Had Pelegon been given this option years beforehand, he would have stayed within his legion immediately. Yet having talked to the members of other legions over the course of his life, he wanted to expand his mind and intellect, and thought that it would be better to see what the rest of the universe could offer him. The choice to become a liaison officer would be the one that saved his life, as the sacrificial force left behind to deal with the Hrudd after the bulk of the IVth legion moved to Istvaan would be slaughtered to a man.
So it was that Pelegon's commander, the Warsmith and member of Peturabo's Trident, Forrix, assigned him to work with the VIIIth legion. Though their tactics could not have been more different, as were their social attitudes, both legions shared a common ruthlessness, contempt for the weak and master; the Warmaster, Horus. So now Pelegon finds himself awaiting assignment to his particular squad of the VIIIth legion, to witness first hand how they fight and learn from them, and to perhaps teach them some of what he knows in the process. Both legions are pariahs in their own ungrateful Imperium, a factor that may drive the warriors together.
On Istvaan, Pelegon brought both himself and his legion honour through claiming the heads of over nine of Corax's sons, one of which was particularly notable; Nirantius, a company champion, who engaged Pelegon in single combat and duly met his end. However, he took what would likely have been a mortal blow from one of the XIXth's techmarines, a strike from a thunderhammer crushing his chest and bursting one of his hearts - though Pelegon crushed the Crow's head with his bare hands, the injury necessitated the implantation of a bionic heart and left the Iron Warrior out of action for a handful of days following Istvaan V. In secret, Pelegon also disposed of one of Lorgars bearers of His Word, leaving his body on the red sands alongside his hated enemies.
Since the battle of Istvaan, Pelegon has undergone heavy and severe training with Sergeant Kirik of the Ninth Claw, learning how to move unseen - as a result of his growing preference for stealth, the Iron Warrior rarely wears his armour, highly unusual for one of the sons of Perturabo, and now mostly moves around in the shadows, unseen and unheard by the Night Lords he stalks - never to kill, but to observe in their native state.
The Iron Warrior has also found an equal in their Corpse Master, Veptus, around whose Apothecarion he can occasionally be seen "operating" on patients, the apothecaries (or even sometimes their dread master himself) occasionally pointing him in a slightly more favourable direction - though as much trial and error as theoretical understanding, Pelegon has been learning how to torture and conduct a victim's nervous system like an orchestra, to play the tunes he wishes to hear.
Weapons: Bolt Pistol - standard Mk 1 "Phobos" model
Power Sword - Pelegon traded his looted thunder hammer for the components to forge this blade, and it is one uniquely well-adapted for the Iron Warrior's own hand - around a foot shorter than most power swords, its blade is covered in erratic, swirling notches and barbs. Its horrifically brutal nature, accentuated by the spikes on the knuckle-guard to render it as much a punching as stabbing weapon, leave the damage that it could inflict absolutely beyond question. With perfect balance and made of the highest quality materials that the Iron Warrior could obtain, its crude appearance is the perfect mask for its high quality, and Pelegon looks forward to the day when he makes a parry with the blade that his opponent might expect to shatter it.