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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
Tales of the Eighth Legion
The Thramas Crusade


The Eighth Legion, The Night Lords, The Sons of the Sunless world are one of twenty legions created by the Emperor for his Great Crusade to reunite the rest of humanity and find his twenty lost sons. Upon the sunless world of Nostramo the Eighth Legion were reunited with their Primarch Konrad Curze also known as The Night Haunter who upon taking control of his legion he taught them his ways of using fear as a weapon to bring about order and compliance.

As the Great Crusade wore on and the Night Lords began to slowly receive replacement Marines from Nostramo (which had meantime fallen back to its pre-Night Haunter ways), the criminal element of Nostraman society, including murderers and rapists, began to fill the ranks. This, in addition to Curze's probable insanity, initiated a downward spiral for the Legion.

After the events of Cheraut where the Night Haunters insanity came to the for and he almost killed his brother Primarch Rogal Dorn the Night Lords fled along with their Primarch back to Nostramo where they then destroyed their homeworld to sever their ties with the rest of the Imperium and becoming a fully rogue legion but before anything could be done about the Night Lords rebellion the Horus Heresy broke in the Isstvan system.

Despite having gone rogue, the Night Lords were one of the seven Legions dispatched to destroy the gathered Sons of Horus, World Eaters, Death Guard, and Emperor's Children at the Isstvan system. Upon Isstvan V, the Night Lords, alongside the Word Bearers, Iron Warriors, and the Alpha Legion, turned on the loyalist Legions who had arrived earlier and took part in the Dropsite Massacre decimating the Raven Guard, Iron Hands, and the Salamanders.

It has been eight months since the Isstvan Massacare where the Iron Hands, Salamanders and Raven Guard were almost completely destroyed. After meeting with the Warmaster, Konrad Curze was ordered to take the Night Lords Legion into the galactic south and Ultima Segmentum to keep the First Legion: The Dark Angels, occupied and out of the war for as long as they could while the Warmaster set about consolidating his forces and begin the war which would see the Imperium virtually torn in half as the civil war raged.

1) No God Modding
2) Respect your fellow role-players.
3) I want a minimum of 1 paragraph (10 sentences) for each post.
4) Roleplay battles will last a minimum of 2 updates when you fight one vs one or large enemies (such as dreadnoughts)
5) Follow the Character sheet.
6) Post atleast once per update.
7) Have Fun and warn me if you can’t post.
8) Stay IC.

Notes: Im currently looking for between five and ten players to become Fourth Companies First Claw / Xandrek’s Command squad, all specialist positions will be first come first serve, HOWEVER if you are returning from the previous roleplay then you will get your position automatically so they have been removed from the list. Example: Deus you will automatically get Apocathery Position. If you want them get a character up sheet as soon as you can. Any questions then feel free to PM me or message me on skype: [email protected]

Updates: Updates will be done every two weeks on a Sunday though if everyone posts before the deadline then the update can be done earlier.

Character Creation:

Name: What is the name of your Character? No Titles unless given by me after your character creation.

Age: How old is your character? Remember that recruits for the Astartes are taken in around 12-16 years of age and the Great Crusade has been going on for around 200 years before the Horus Heresy and that Konrad Curze was found roughly a third to half the way through the Great Crusade (going off of Shadows of Treachery and the Night Lord Trilogy).

Homeworld: Which planet do you call your world of birth before joining the Eighth Legion: Terra or Nostramo?

Physical Appearance: What does your character look like? Is he tall for an Astartes? Short? Slim? Well muscled? Remember that all night lords have pure black eyes and corpse white skin, Im looking for atleast one decent length paragraph here for your appearance. A decent two length paragraph is roughly between 7-9 full lines.

Armour Appearance: Night Lord Armour is highly decorated by the marine that wears it with images of death and fear and can include anything from painted on lightning, skulls attached with chains, human skin cloaks along with many other things. You may wear any mark of armour from Mark II ‘Crusade Era’ armour to Mark V ‘Heresy’ armour or a mix of any armour from MK II to MK V. I want to see atleast the same amount of description in your armors appearance as your Physical appearance if not more.

Personality: What is your personality like? Are you calm and collected? A blood crazed lunatic? I do not want to see any ‘silent’ types in the roleplay but remember there will be a lot of difference between Terran and Nostraman Marines in terms of their personality as Nostraman marines are generally criminals, Once again looking for atleast a decent length paragraph.

Marine Class: All begin as Legion Veteran, you may choose to ‘upgrade’ into one of the following which are limited to 1 each and first come first serve: Legion Tech-Marine (1), Legion Company Standard Bearer (1) Each specialist class has its own unique equipment listed in the equipment section.

Background: What life did you have before joining the Legion? What kind of family did you come from? If you lived on Nostramo what kind of crimes did you commit? What was your initial training like when you became a Space Marine? Did you follow a specific path in the Legion? How did you become a member of Xandrek’s First Claw / Command Squad? This is pretty much open in terms of what you write here by remember to follow the fluff of your legion and homeworld. I would like to see atleast three paragraphs of a good length here for your background which is to include as much of the above as you can. Remember more is better when it comes to character creation. Do not forget to add in what you did at Isstvan V.

Weapons: All Marines have three open weapon slots with which they may fill: Pistol, Close Combat Weapon and Ranged Weapon, you may select one of each from the lists below to fill out your weapon options. You may feel free to describe what your weapon looks like and is called in this section aswell.

- Bolt Pistol
- Plasma Pistol
- Hand Flamer
- Infernus / Melta Pistol
- Volkite Serpenta
- May Exchange Pistol for an Extra Close Combat Weapon
- May Exchange Pistol for a Combat / Boarding Shield
‘Light’ Ranged Weapon:
- Bolter
- Combi-Bolter (Flamer, Plasma, Melta, Storm/Dual Bolter)
- Volkite Charger
- Flamer
- Melta Gun
- Plasma Gun
- Sniper Rifle
- Company Standard (Standard Bearer Only, Replaces ‘Light’ Weapon)

‘Heavy’ Ranged Weapon (Takes up Light Ranged and Pistol Option):
- Heavy Flamer (Legion Veteran Only)
- Auto-Cannon (Legion Veteran Only)
- Missile Launcher (Legion Veteran Only)
- Multi-Melta (Legion Veteran Only)
- Plasma Cannon (Legion Veteran Only)
- Volkite Calverin (Legion Veteran Only)
- Las-Cannon (Legion Veteran Only)

Close Combat Weapon:
- Chainsword
- Heavy Chainsword (Takes up Close Combat Weapon and Pistol Option)
- Chain Axe
- Heavy Chain Axe (Takes up Close Combat Weapon and Pistol Option)
- Power Weapon (This may take any form such as a Sword, Axe, Mace etc.)
- Heavy Power Sword or Axe (Tales up Close Combat Weapon and Pistol Option)
- Single Lightning Claw
- Single Power or Chain Fist
- Single Thunderhammer
- Pair of Lightning Claws (Takes up Close Combat Weapon and ‘Light’ Option)

Equipment: You have three slots in which you can take a piece of equipment and each piece uses up 1 slot unless stated.
- Frag and Krak Grenades
- Melta-Bombs
- Bionics (One slot per bionic limb)
- Nuncio-Vox
- Weapon Scopes (Light Weapon Only)
- Special Ammunition (Bolt Pistol, Bolter and Combi-Bolter Only. Contact me for choices.)

- Servo-Arm (Techmarine Only, Automatic Equipment)
- Servo-Harness (Techmarine Only, replaces Servo-Arm and uses up an extra slot.)
- Narthacirum (Apocathery Only, Automatic Equipment)

Positions Open/Taken:
1: Corpse-Master Veptus Szlan - Legion Apocathery - Deus Mortis
2: Serhiy Veres - Legion Veteran - Boxagonapus
3: Tyberus Ghralkor - Legion Veteran - Krymson86
4: Corvis Sejanus "Young Blood" - Legion Veteran - Nightlord96
5: Kesh Yael Trevas - Legion Veteran - Andygorn
6: Helek Talos - Legion Veteran - Nacho Libre
7: Pelegon - Legion Veteran - Nol
8: Zsavo Verak - Legion Veteran - Farseer Ulthris

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
Feel free to join Nacho, there are 10 open positions for this one.

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1,779 Posts
Discussion Starter · #5 ·
Yes it is, i forgot to add that. Its basically a two-handed chain-weapon so its available anyway.

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Here's Veptus. He is as of yet unchanged from the other recruitment threads. When I get a chance I'll edit the stuff from Isstvan in, but that won't be until Wednesday at the earliest. Still, if nothing else it'll be a place holder.

Name: Corpse-Master Veptus Szlan

Age: 156

Homeworld: Nostramo

Physical Appearance: Veptus’ appearance is one of a madman. His eyes are gleam with the light of glee and madness. His mouth is almost always open in a partial smile. His oak brown hair is shaved close to his head and is patchy in places and in lines where Veptus has sustained scars and so hair no longer grows there. His left ear looks like a bite was taken out of it long ago, as the wound has since healed but the flesh has not returned. He has a goatee as well. He stands a respectable 7’3” without his armour on, although he has less muscle than would generally be observed on an Astartes of any legion. The last two digits on his right hand have been replaced with bionics which Veptus had styles in the appearance of human bones. Indeed, he often grinds the bones of his foes and uses the dust to give them an authentic colour. His white skin is pulled tight over his muscles and bones.

Armour Appearance: Veptus favours the newer Mark V armour to any other and so requested an entire set of it. Some has been taken from the fallen and some has been made, but Veptus has been fortunate to acquire it all. His helmet has a skull with elongated canines painted on with wings which fold back close to the helmet crafted on. These are the colour of dried blood and have short chains of eyes hanging from them. These are obviously perishable and even though Vaptus keeps them preserved out of battle, he often has to acquire new ones. A full human rib-cage is splayed across his chest and his left shoulder-guard bears the legion’s insignia and his right bears the double helix of his office. Painted lightning runs down his arms. The blood red wings of the legion are painted on his thighs. They meet at his knees which have a skull mounted on each. The jaw moves with each step meaning that when stalking a foe they can hear the sound of death coming for them. It is possible for him to move silently, as sometimes this is necessary, but Veptus enjoys the ability to taunt his enemy without speaking. Half a spine is mounted to each shin. Veptus also has a cloak made of the flayed faces of his victims. What is remarkable about this is that Veptus will only add the faces he had flayed from living victims to the cloak.

Personality: In stark contrast to his appearance, Veptus is everything that anyone would desire in an Apothecary. He is thoughtful and methodical, although his takes a cruel glee his work on his brothers as much as on his enemies. He has fully embraced the teachings of their Primarch and believes that much of humanity is unworthy and must be forced into submission through fear. But, such a perspective is not uncommon for one who still remembers the days when he would be told to watch for the Night Haunter. Another product of that is that Veptus is far less inclined to insubordination and far more ready and willing to follow orders. He is able to keep his head under the most dire of situations, which is also a useful trait for an apothecary to possess.

Marine Class: Apothecary

Background: One of the earliest memories Veptus has is of his mother tucking him into bed while his father was assisting the gang which was prominent in their area. She told him to be careful when he walked the streets, for the greatest dangers were not the gangs or the enforcers, but Night Haunter. Back then that phrase meant nothing to Veptus other than certain death for all those who had done wrong. Not a few years ago had great ships come bearing a being whose light had burnt the eyes of the inhabitants of such a sunless world as Nostramo. The Overlord had left with them and they had been recruiting boys about 9 years older than Veptus was at the time.

Veptus watched as Nostramo devolved back to its pre-Night Haunter ways. Gang warfare went from underground affairs to public ones. Crime rose exponentially and people forgot the message of fear that Veptus had been taught as a child. Veptus was swept up in the plans and affairs of the gangs, particularly the one his father was employed by. It was here that Veptus first met Xandrek, although he would not learn the significance of the man until later. Xandrek was the son of the Gang Overlord whom his father served. Both sons had a habit of accompanying their fathers to work in order to assist. Veptus served as little more than a skivvy for his father, cleaning and collecting the necessary equipment. Several time the Overlord would personally visit Veptus's father to check the status of a injured, high-ranking gang member whom he was tending to or to be given information 'obtained' which Veptus's father did not trust a courier with. It was through these meeting that Veptus first me Xandrek, although to call them friends would be a gross exaggeration.

He took after his father as a one of the gang’s medics, although in truth his position was two-fold. He also doubled as one of the gang’s torturers. In his position, he extracted information and made deserters suffer for their betrayal. He took great pleasure in his work and made it into an art-form. He also had his fair share experience on the battlefield and learnt to handle firearms and became able bodied enough that when the trails to become a member or the Eighth occurred that his reasonable prowess combined with his near encyclopaedic knowledge of anatomy meant he was able to defeat any foe which he faced and so became a member of the Night Lords.

Fate brought Xandrek and Veptus together again. Since Xandrek was only two years older than himself, Veptus and Xandrek ended up in the same recruiting pool. They served together on several missions as scouts for the Night Lords and quickly got acquainted, far better than back on Nostramo. Although it was clear to both where the other was heading. Xandrek ambition was blindingly clear to Veptus. His father had wielded power and Veptus knew that Xandrek was determined to do the same. Likewise, it was clear to Xandrek that Veptus first passion was torture and flesh-smithing. Although both competent Astartes, after they became full battle brothers and they started to walk their various paths, neither made a special effort to keep contact with one another, save when their paths happened to cross.

Once a member of the Night Haunter’s legion, Veptus was thrilled. He found a legion of men who had not forgotten what terror and subjugating populaces into obedience meant. He had found a collection of like-minded agents of terror. However, the satisfaction he felt from holding surgical tools and dissecting people to cause maximum pain and suffering. He spent large portions of time in the Apothecium, just to be around the smell of blood and to marvel at un-pulped organs. Much of his knowledge of human anatomy meant he was not just an irritating pair of watching eyes. However, he required training to be able to work with trans-human anatomy. But Veptus’s prior knowledge plus is natural affinity for it meant that the existing Apothecaries of the Night Lords were happy to provide such training.

Veptus became an Apothecary attached to the Fourth Company and had many successes with them. His skill with the blade was profound and he was able to save many Night Lords from receiving “The Emperor’s Grace”. He was largely indifferent as to who lead them, as long as he got to do what he loved. When Xandrek challenged the previous captain to a Murder Duel, Veptus was too engrossed in his art to even come and watch his old acquaintance best his previous captain. It wasn't until Xandrek accompanied the body of the slain Captain down to the Apocatherion and requested that Veptus personally do the autopsy of the fallen Night Lord, something Veptus took great pleasure in doing. Xandrek ordered the captain’s gene-seed destroyed as an act of contempt and Veptus had happily obliged. It was good to see that his old acquaintance had finally obtained the authority he had coveted back when they had been in training together.

When Xandrek’s personal champion took and axe-blow to the chest, it had been Veptus who had restored him to health, and many other members of the First Claw. Such proficiency, and their previous relationship, gained Veptus recognition by his Captain to the extent that Xandrek made him an official attachment to the First Claw. Since then many of the battlefield wound which the First Claw have had repaired bear the mark of Veptus. He has even healed Xandrek several times.

The title of Corpse-Master was given to Veptus by Xandrek after the events of Ghurst Prime. It was a agri-world brought into compliance by the White Scars some eighty years ago, but had recently with-held their tithes to the Imperium. The Night Lords had other battles to fight, but Konrad Curze charged the Fourth Company with bringing this world. Xandrek was anxious to get back to their Primarch and so wished to resolve it quickly. Upon landing on the planet Xandrek mobilized the majority of his forces to surround the palace where the highest echelons of the rebels were held with their families. However, at night Xandrek sent his First Claw on various objectives.The others were missions involving sabotage and assassination of military commanders. Veptus' was an open ended one to simply inspire terror into the civilians, particularly the rebellious governor.

The others achieved their objectives within a few hours, but Veptus did not return. He did not answer vox hails and his signal went dark. Some feared the worst. However, when the sun rose, the armies were arranged along the ledge. Xandrek was surprised to see that the men would fight them after such a night. However, as the Fourth Company went to go to war, the entrance opened. The inside of the doors were lined with the bodies of the families of the highest members of the rebel society. Their children had been flayed of all their skin, their wives ripped open from the groin. Even their servants were pinned, splayed, lacerated and flayed. The remarkable thing was, none of them were dead. The doors emitted a wall of sound in tune to the low moan of all the victims. Vaptus stood in the doorway with the governor and advisers at his sides. He paraded them out. His voice called out over an amplified vox "People of Ghurst, what is your answer?" As one, the men on the walls turned their guns on the rebel leaders and killed them and then threw down their weapons. In a single night, Veptus' skill at torture had made these men walk willingly to their deaths and combined with his brothers other works had lead the world back to compliance. Xandrek forbade anyone from taking down the bodies of Veptus' victims from the walls as a reminder to the next governors of what would happen if they rebelled. As for Veptus, Xandrek gave him the title of Corpse-Master.

After Cheraut, when the Night Lords had burned Nostramo, Veptus watched as the world burned. He stood on the bridge and watched the planet’s mantle split asunder. His primary thought was not one of remorse or sadness, but that he wished that he could have watched the light go out in each individual’s eyes, as the kill was always more satisfying that way. After that, once again it was straight back to work in the Apothecium.

Weapons: Volkite Serpenta, Sniper Rifle, Power Sword

Equipment: Frag and Krak Grenades, Weapons Scope, Narthacirum, Flaying Knife

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Discussion Starter · #8 ·
Veptus is accepted, add in the Isstvan / latest stuff for him when you have time.

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Name: Serhiy Veres
Age: 149
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. His body is weak now and while still superior to a mere mortal in most every respect it's increasingly difficult for him to keep up with others in his chapter. The particular brew made by the Apothecary Veptus for him to use during the Dropsite Massacre proved to be very detrimental to him and not just to those that were his victims. Cancer fills his body and only his superhuman physiology granted by being an Astartes keeps him alive.

Armour Appearance:
The Mark III armour that the Destroyer so cherished has fallen apart slowly with time. The cuirass is that of a Mark IV while the helmet and legs are the easier to build Mark V with the gauntlets themselves scavenged from a Mark II. The only thing left over from the old Mark III is the old Destroyer logo on his pauldron. It's faded and has been painted over but it still faintly shows through. Out of sheer disdain Serhiy has chosen to leave the armour very basic in appearance like the legion before the rebellion. It's midnight hue stands in stark contrast to the more flashy appearances of the other Night Lords and serves to blend in more to the surroundings.

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. Unfortunately his disposition has turned more and more grim as time has gone on and Serhiy's body has continued to degrade. He's finding less of a use in the Night Lord system and struggles to be relevant within the chapter.

Marine Class: Legion Veteran

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.

During the Dropsite massacre he proved to be somewhat ineffective. His body as well as those of the Destroyers in 10th claw lagging behind the rest of the legion. They did their duty slaughtering the auxiliary and during the application Serhiy employed a special toxin concocted by the apothecary Veptus that proved to be extremely lethal but unfortunately ate away at him significantly more than normal and has sent his body spiraling downward far quicker than before. He's since been dishonored and relegated to guard duty that he views with great disdain. He sees Veptus as the one that took his place in the revolution away from him and particularly despises him.


1 x chainsword
1 x bolt pistol
1 x Combi - bolter / flamer

Bionics as a result of being a Destroyer : Lungs and bones
phosphex bombs

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1,434 Posts
Name - Helek Talos

Age - 153

Homeworld - Nostramo

Physical appearance - like all the others of his legion Helek displays the signs of his primarchs gene seed. Deep black eyes and deathly pale skin. His hair is dark jet black and is cut short to avoid it getting in the way during a fight. Dark networks of blue veins run across his flesh like a perverted jigsaw puzzle, this being caused by a childhood spent in perpetual darkness and the constant exposure to chemical waste in his hive. Without armour Herek stands at 7'1 and is comprised of lean muscle which suits his weapon of choice well...

Over a century of warfare has left its marks on his body. From deep chemical burns on his torso to the scarred knuckles from the brutal combat on istvaan 5. No part of him is left untouched. Herek's face is gaunt and retains some resemblance to the human he once was and doesn't take on the out of proportion shape of many other astartes. His lips are thin and seem to take on the appearance of a sly grin almost constantly.

Armour appearance - Herek wears a full suit of mark4 armour that is adorned with the trophies of his exploits. He prefers this version of power armour as it isn't as constricting as the older versions yet offers similar protection against many of the brutal weaponry of the 30th millennium... Even the bolter shells of the ones he once called brothers.

His armour is coloured the deep midnight blue of his legion and is decorated with stark white lightning bolts to strike fear into all that gaze upon him. On his chest he has the bones of his first kill proudly embedded into the ceramite... A trophy to remind him of the kill and to warn others of their impending death.

Herek's helmet is adorned with charms and the bones of small rodents from Nostramo. The cox grill has large teeth mounted into the space and the vox unit itself has been altered so that it makes his voice sound like tormented souls by releasing screams of terror and ecstasy.

Personality - Much like the others of his legion Herek has a cold and calculated view on life. He feels no empathy and cares not the lives of humans, xenos and astartes a like. Even before the heresy he was killing fellow brothers in the fighting rings of the night lords battle barges. His belief was that space marine would fight space marine eventually... It was just a matter of time. He cares nothing for his superiors and he often fights for himself, only following the orders if ordered so by the primarch himself. This has led to a lot of distrust towards him but on countless occasions he has shown himself to be a reliable soldier and warrior.

Marine class - Veteran Marine

Background - Born on the world of perpetual darkness Nostramo, Herek learned from s young age that to get anywhere in life you had to just take it... Nothing would ever go your way if you didn't rise up and take it. This was shown when he was 10 years old and he killed a debt collector that had been terrorising his family for years. He waited for the man to come to the door of his dwellings before brutally killing him with a hammer.

Tales of the night haunter didn't scare him. He didn't just not fear death. He welcomed it. So if this night haunter wanted to come for him so be it. Not long after he killed the debt collected Helek's family was lost when his section of the hive collapsed into the destabilise ground of Nostramo. This left the angry young man on the deadly streets of the hive city. Years passed and Helek learned... He learned how to steal and defend himself against anything that was thrown at him. He ended up getting involved in gang violence before the night lords legion began recruiting. Seeing him as a good option for an astartes he was taken by the superhumans to become one of their ranks.

Once he was in the legion he rose through the scout ranks and reached full blown astartes at a rapid speed. His superiors noted the use of fear that Herek employed and we're pleased with it to say at least and he was swiftly drafted into the ranks of the first claw. When the night haunter returned the legion to witness Nostramo's final moments Herek felt nothing but shame towards the planet of his birth. He believed that the planet deserved it after slipping back into its horrible ways and ruining everything that had been done to change it for the better.

When the heresy began and the night lords headed towards the istvaan system he was itching to spill the blood of his brothers. Ready to show them what fear really was!
After making planetfall he waited until the order to open fire on the remaining loyalists which had just survived the slaughter. He took in the scene of astartes bodies blowing apart with bolter impacts and revelled in the utter destructive force of legions destroying themselves. During the course of the battle Herek was forced to ditch his chainaxe due to the action being clogged with gore. He recovered a nostroman chainglaive and he has been using it to this day.

Weapons - bolter
- Nostroman Chainglaive

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233 Posts
Name: Tyberus Ghralkor

Age: 119

Homeworld: Nostramo

Physical Appearance: Tyberus is "short" for an Astartes, standing at "only" 7 feet, his shoulders though are exceptionally broad and even though he looks up to some of his battle brothers by as much as a half foot, he is no less imposing. His cold eyes are a near ice blue, his black hair runs down to his shoulders and his face offers little in the way of expression most of the time, aside from a slight arrogant smirk that tends to find its way across his face.

Armour Appearance: The armor that Tyberus wears has been acquired over years and honed to his personal tastes. Comprised of a pastiche of components that would either best suit his purposes or were accessible for him to get his hands on. Originally issued a set of MK III armor that caused a strain on the armor's power supply, Tyberus has taken the MK III and made it unique to him. Through painstaking efforts and salvaging from fallen foes (And comrades) he equipped himself with greaves from a MK IV set of armor, as well as MK IV gauntlets. The chest plate remains the original MK III, as well as the helmet, however the interface has been upgraded by the techpriests to allow the helmet to move in a manner more similar to the more modern suits such as the MK IV. Tyberus has also taken the extra precaution of having ablative plating added to the collar of his power armor cretaing a gorget, using molecular bonding studs to affix the extra armor. His armor is a deep blue, with the chest fading to an almost black shade. His greaves are adorned with lightning bolts, the MK IV shoulder plates are adorned with spikes on the left side and a single large gold bat-winged skull emblazoned on the right. There are several adamantium chains that hang from the shoulders of his armor, crossing over the breast plate, as well as chains on the thigh plates that connect to the greaves of his armor. The chains serve no purpose other than to add to his imposing visage, as he does not partake in the wearing of skin cloaks.

Personality: Tyberus could best be described as calculating. He is not quick to unleash his temper, but when his ire is drawn he is capable of near unthinkable vengeance. He does not view the killing of his once battle brothers to be reprehensible in any way, nor does he see it as something to relish. For Tyberus it is simply the cost of war, sides were taken and he views those on the other side quite simply as his enemies. Within the Night Lords, however he uses his cold and calculating nature to take what he wants though not always through open conflict. When a challenge is issued, Tyberus has no qualms with dispatching any foe or battle brother alike, should he feel his honor is challenged he may opt to fell the offender at that very moment. While he, like many of his battle brothers, possesses a warped sense of code and honor, he does adhere to it, but places victory above all else and is not opposed to allowing friendly fire to "resolve" unfinished problems with those who would show themselves as enemies or disloyal to himself or the 4th Company. Though he has committed numerous atrocities along with his battle brothers he still holds himself and his brothers accountable to their bond of loyalty. He knows that without the loyalty to one another they will simply die, and the dead cannot raid and pillage their enemies. As such since joining the Command Squad, he has, on occasion "removed" some of the more 'cancerous' (as he has termed them) elements from the 4th Company personally. Often without others even knowing the act was carried out by a fellow Night Lord. Tyberus' bond with Xandrek is not always harmonious, but as a result of this willingness on both parts to cordially disagree, both have garnered the respect of the other. Tyberus has great respect for Xandrek and is loyal to him and the 4th Company's cause undyingly. This much could be evidenced by Tyberus' most infamous and widely viewed displays that took place not long after he had been assigned to the Command Squad. Challenging the now deceased former battle brother Sergeant Maerek Koutz to an honor duel when Maerek made a negative comment about the tactics that Captain Xandrek had decided upon after the tactica counsel and Command Squad had finished their deliberations on the matter. It was especially offensive and disrespectful to Tyberus as Maerek did not voice his opinion to those privy to the deliberation, but did so in front of other battle brothers. With Xandrek's approval, Tyberus challenged Maerek to an honor duel, despite his own belief that Maerek would be too quick and too savvy of an opponent for him. The duel was surprisingly one sided as Tyberus quickly caught Maerek off guard using fluidly chained attacks from his power maul. The thought-to-be slower moving Tyberus kept the pressure on until he finally disarmed Maerek and moved in for the kill. Xandrek called a halt to the bout, feeling as if the message had been sent clearly. However Sergeant Maerek did not return from the combat drop, having disappeared in the chaos of battle. Those battle brothers with keen eyes have made comments in hushed tones that the MK IV components of Tyberus' power armor, underneath the new paint and the chains look rather like those that once belonged to the now deceased Sergeant Maerek. Amongst his fellow Night Lords, there is a begrudging respect given to Tyberus for his calculating and ruthless methods.

Marine Class: Legion Veteran

Background: Living in the slums of Nostramo as a boy was not easy and as with all those who sought to survive, Tyberus learned to operate as a man very quickly. He started out as a simple messenger, running messages from the headquarters of the slum boss for whom he worked and carried his orders to the lower level thugs who would then carry out the atrocities asked of them. Seeing the power, accommodations and extra rations these men were given Tyberus sought to join their ranks and move up a step from mere messenger. The denial of his request was both verbal and then a rather unnecessary beating at the hands of the head of the small band of thugs named Kortai. Tyberus was enraged, but being only 12 he did not yet have the means to carry out his revenge. As several years passed as he continued to carry out orders from his boss (whom he never actually interacted with face to face as he was the upper class of the hive system), and continued to give Kortai his assignments. When aged 14, Tyberus had acquired some weapons of his own, and was turning into a rather large physical specimen. No longer just carrying orders from upper levels of the hive to the lower levels, Tyberus was now an active member of Kortais gang, answering to The Boss. When given orders to take down a rival in the upper hive, Korpai and his gang were met by rival thugs, sent by the rival they had been sent to kill. In the confusion Tyberus took the opportunity to inform the then grievously wounded Kortai that he had not forgotten the beating years earlier. In fact, he had been the one who gave their rivals the notice they needed to stop Kortai's attempted raid. Tyberus smugly spat onto the dying Kortai who could only gaspingly reach up, staring up into the hardened, cold, and vengeful blue eyes, the now common arrogant smirk forming on the lips of his killer to be, before Tyberus sent the man on his way with a blast from a slug gun. Soon thereafter he was conscripted to join the VIII Legion based on his physical development as well as his keen instincts and near savagery in inner gang warfare that plagued the hive cities of Nostramo.

Once a full fledged Astartes, Tyberus' combat skills shone above even those of many of his battle brothers, equal parts tactically sound and terrifyingly savage. A member of the 4th Company's assault squad, Tyberus had been given the field rank of second in command of the 2nd Assault Squad. Their savagery in combat was well known throughout the company, and their sergeant Lourkaz was given the opportunity to join Xandrek's command squad. Lourkaz however explained to his longtime battle brother that he could not give up command of the 2nd Assault squad, as it was his duty to those who served directly under him to lead them into battle. He gave Xendrek the recommendation of perhaps enlisting the younger Tyberus to join the Command Squad, as he possessed an astute understanding of tactics as well as a terrible ferocity in combat that was growing in infamy across the Company.

The war had swept through the universe, the part of the Eighth Legion was that of shock troops, savaging enemy lines at the command of their lord, the Night Haunter. Tyberus had seen their Primarch on Istvaan, a glorious campaign, the Astartes who had turned their backs on their brethren were caught off guard and forced to pay a high toll. However, now the true war would begin, there was no more gamesmanship, there could be no more surprise attacks, every Legion was fully thrown into open war.

Tyberus embraced the chaos of war, using every opening available to him to gain further footing within the First Claw. Tyberus' ambitions have been fired, and since his time aboard the NightFall he has held a desire to take up arms as a member of the vaunted Atramentar, however, this is something he keeps to himself, and openly seeks what he views as the open station of Champion after the events of Istvaan. As company Champion he would stand to gain great glories.

Weapons: Tyberus carries with him a storm bolter that has been equipped with a scope. His close combat weapon of choice is a power maul, which can crumple armor with ease and turn flesh and bone into mere dust and gore. The power maul has dark, aged gold etching work on the pommel. His sidearm is a tried and true bolt pistol, which remains largely looking as it did when first rolled out by the techpriests.

Bolt Pistol

‘Light’ Ranged Weapon:
Storm bolter w/ scope

‘Heavy’ Ranged Weapon: N/A

Close Combat Weapon:
Power Maul (Previous weapon. May change)

Frag and Krak Grenades, Storm Bolter Scope, Melta Bombs

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146 Posts
Name: Corvis Sejanus "Young Blood"

Age: 80

Physical Appearance: Like all Nostramans Corvis's eyes are pitch black from the lack of sun. Without his power armor on Corvis is a modest 7' tall without armor on. Corvis' skin is almost translucent from the absolute darkness of his homeworld. Owing to his criminal past, Corvis' body is swarmed by tattoos: the more faded ones from gang allegiances, Nostraman sayings, and more personal reasons from his old life and newer ones markings of special kills or particularly terrifying styles after becoming a Night Lord. These markings cover his body up to his neck and down to his elbows, leaving only his face and forearms free of the ink. If not for the blessing of being taken in by the Night Haunter, Corvis would have probably remained a scrawny ganger in the streets and alleys of Nostramo. Most likely because of this destitute background, Corvis' body is more lithe than muscular, his body consuming every ounce of protein he could consume in his training to be an astartes

Armor Appearance: After receiving the gene-seed of his Primarch, Corvis walked through the Armory of his Legion, picking through the bits and pieces of old armor suits that were salvaged from the dead Night Lords before him. As such he was able to threaten and steal his way to finding an almost complete suit of MK. III Power Armor, only the helmet being a MK. II piece. After taking his prized armor suit, Corvis made it his own by spending hours shaping it to his own needs: adding spikes to his left shoulder pauldron and painting a demon's grin from his worst nightmares onto his helmet while also adding a screaming bleached skull onto his shin segment of his right leg armor piece.

Personality: Corvis is a product of his own environment, and as such is a sociopath. Growing up around killers and thieves, Corvis has no intention of seeking the bond of brotherhood that so many other Legion's share. In fact you could probably find an Iron Warrior with more friends than Corvis. It isn't from being anti-social however, Corvis just always remembers using the sharp tongue his mother gave him to cause more trouble for himself. Corvis knew from childhood that if one was to survive and rise to another sunless day on Nostramo, they had to be willing not just to kill, but to fight dirty and gut the fool who thought themselves better at what they do than he. There is only one individual that both terrifies and inspires him: Konrad Kurze. While the Emperor may have lifted Kurze from Nostramo, Corvis knew that it was the Night Haunter who lifted Nostramo from itself, and paved the way for Corvis to ascend to his post-human status. As such, it is the Night Haunter who keeps Corvis a Night Lord, and gives him his reasons for killing.

Marine Class: Legion Veteran.

History: Nostramo. That bleak world standing still in the galaxy, seeming to suck in whatever light would touch it. It is there that Corvis' tale began. Growing up with his father, a ganger from a lowly street crew, and mother, a cheap dive bar server, Corvis grew up knowing mostly hunger for food, greed for more in his life, and fear of the Night Haunter who would steal you away in the night and leave your faceless corpse strung up on a streetlight. When Corvis was merely 8 years old his father was shot dead in a running fight with another gang who wanted another street to call their own. It was at this time in his life that Corvis knew his childhood was over. In an effort to provide for his family, Corvis began turning to crime to help his mother feed herself and him. Stealing from shopkeepers, passers-by, and the occasional wealthy ganger when he passed, it wasn't until he was 10 years old that Corvis first killed a man. Even today Corvis can close his eyes and smile at the image of the bleeding fool who tried blasting his head off with a shotgun laying dead in a pool of his own blood.

For three years Corvis lived the same empty life generations of Nostramans had lived before him: shaking down those who were travelling by themselves with a gang of fellow youths and sometimes mugging the money collectors for the big crime bosses, although they were becoming fewer and fewer as the Night Haunter's work became more and more obvious as the years passed. It wasn't until the Emperor of Man, bedecked in such golden light that most could not even attempt to look at him, came to Nostramo and lifted his son to the stars. Several months later word spread like wildfire through the streets: the Night Haunter needed the young sons of Nostramo to fill the ranks of his Night Lords. Like hundreds of boys like him Corvis lept at the chance to become a Night Lord. However, unlike the hundreds before him who were, Corvis was not found wanting despite his scrawny and famished frame. For months upon months Corvis trained his body and mind to reflect that of his Primogenitor. The grueling exercises threatened to overwhelm him on more than one occasion, but the mental mindset Konrad Kurze was instilling in his legion already had a foothold in Corvis' mind. By the time he was gifted with the gene-seed of his legion when he was 15, Corvis was truly a Night Lord of the Imperium of Man.

It wasn't long before Corvis realized how truly effective the Night Lords were at their style of war. Let the Luna Wolves fritter away at surgical strikes, let the Iron Warriors beat themselves to death in sieges, and let those posh dandy Emperor's Children try and perfect the ultimate style of charging up a hill they desire. Konrad Kurze knew the true way to win a war: Fear. An enemy who is too afraid to pick up the gun will not strike at you. An enemy who sees his leaders strung up screaming and wailing is a demoralized enemy. The Night Lords knew this and Corvis Sejanus knew this. It was his willingness to not only inflict this pain and terror but to use it to the best possible end that attracted the attention of Xandrek. Facing a rebellious Imperial Army faction on the world they were on, Corvis' squad and he used the cover of the night to sneak up to what they thought was a simple refueling station for the dissidents. As it turned out an entire regiment had stopped there for the night before they were to push on in the morning for the Imperial lines. Howling blood curdling cries, Corvis and his fellow Night Lords crashed straight into the camp and began opening fire. As more and more traitorous scum appeared, one by one Corvis saw or heard his squadmates dying. It was only until he and one other brother marine were all that were left when the enemy finally broke ranks and scattered to the wind. Wading through the carnage, Corvis was surprised and gleeful when he stumbled onto a mewling officer who begged for mercy. With his fellow Night Lord calling in for an evac rhino or dropship, Corvis used careful precision and gave the traitor enough terrifying images that he divulged the whereabouts of the major supply depots and the location of the traitorous Colonel and his cabinet. Finished with his captive, Corvis split the wretch's belly open nailed his palms to gates of the depot for any of survivors to see.

By the time he was done an Imperial dropship landed with a whole score of Night Lords arriving to continue on and press the advantage. As he watched his fellow squadmate being carried onto the dropship, Corvis felt no sympathy for the fool for letting humans nearly get the best of him. Lost in thought, Corvis almost missed a Night Lord with an aura of fear surrounding him approach. Introducing himself as Xandrek of Fourth Company, Corvis almost laughed when he commented on how little of his squad remained standing. After relaying to him the story of what happened at the depot, Xandrek appeared to swallow and think. Finally, looking straight into Corvis' eyes and smiling with a murderous grin, Xandrek offered Corvis a place in his Claw.

Following his recruitment into the 4th company's first claw, Corvis noticed that most of the other marines serving Xandrek were far older than he. In fact, there was hardly a member of the claw that hadn't been fighting for decades longer than he had been born. This manifested itself in the early duels between himself and the Night Lord's he faced in the pitch blackness of the training deck, in particular Xandrek's Champion Azrael. Almost a full century older than Corvis, Azrael never wasted time showing how much the young Night Lord still had left to learn of swordsmanship. In one particular duel overseen by Xandrek himself, Corvis finally felt himself feel like he had the upper hand against Azrael. Pushing his luck, Corvis was blind to the pivot the cursed shade performed as he brought his blade screaming downwards into nothing but air. Within the next moment Corvis felt the cold steel of the ship on his back as he crashed like a fallen tree, blood seeping from the wound in his leg where the Champion sliced deep. Cursing and stumbling to his feet Corvis watched the Champions swagger as he calmly cleaned what blood remained on his sword before sheathing it and turning to Xandrek. Whispering just low enough to not be heard, Corvis could only guess at what they were discussing, although both his ego and paranoia told him that it was about him. Finally noticing that Corvis still stood before them, Xandrek let out a light chuckle as if at some joke Corvis was not invited to know about before addressing the young Night Lord directly and ordering him to get his leg taken care of by Veptus. However, it was not with his name Xandrek had ordered him. Young Blood. That is what Xandrek called him. Young Blood. As he left for the apothecarium, the pain in his leg a dull ache as his body fought against the blood loss of the severe cut, Corvis rolled the name over in his head. True, he was definitely the youngest member of First Claw, but that was no reason to mock him. Walking into the apothecarium, Corvis simply allowed the Apothecary to tend to his wound before he dismissed the title. What did it matter, eventually he would earn himself a title that truly befitted himself and new generations of Nostramans would be the young blood's of the Legion. Fate, as it would have it, can be quite fickle though.

When Kurze brought the Legion back to the homeworld to give it his final message, Corvis watched along with the rest of the Legion as Kurze condemned the planet to death. Corvis knew this was no madness, being from one of the last waves of Night Lords that Kurze didn't distrust, he remembered the stories about the planet's slip back into anarchy, crime, and ignorance of the Night Haunter's message. Nostramo didn't just need a reminder, Corvis told himself, but the entire Imperium did, especially the Emperor. It was strange to him at the time but looking out the viewports of the Battle Barge as it hurled fiery destruction onto Nostramo, as it's tectonic plates gave way under the intense bombardment of the Night Lord's fleet and imploded, Corvis couldn't have cared for the fact that his family was most certainly dead or that his people and culture were annihilated. All that he could think about was his title. Young Blood. Indeed, with the homeworld gone and the Night Lord's set on the path of war, Corvis realized that he would be the youngest blood the 4th company would see for a long time. With a macabre smile, Corvis chuckled as he left his world to burn in the void.

During the events of the Dropsite Massacre, Corvis savaged the Raven Guard caught in the whirlwind of death as First Claw punched their way deep into the loyalist’s ranks. While Xandrek, Azrael, and Veptus propelled themselves forward, Corvis operated on his own attacking the Raven Guard when their attention was focused elsewhere. Following in the trail of the Lord of Lies, Corvis did not catch what had transpired that had caused such discord between Azrael and Xandrek, but knew to keep his ears open for the faintest whisper. By the time 4th company pulled out from Isstvan, Corvis had a score of kills and a severed Raven Guard sergeant’s head as a trophy. The galaxy had been set aflame, and Corvis knew his Primarch and Lord were only getting started as the Night Lords broke off from the Warmaster’s host and began carving their way through the False Emperor’s Imperium.

Weapons: Plasma Pistol, Bolter, Single Lightning Claw

Equipment: Frag/Krak Grenades, Nuncio-Vox, Plasma Pistol Scope.

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1,779 Posts
Discussion Starter · #14 ·
Krymson - Why do you want a chainhammer/maul?

Allow me to point out - Power Weapons (swords, axes, mauls etc) will always be better than Chain-Weapons, as the energy field gives them an advantage.

Which also means if you decide to pit your chain-hammer/maul against lets say a Crozious/Power Mace then you might get 1 maybe 2 hits with it before your weapon shatters.

Chain-Swords/Axes/Glaives are similiar but all they end up doing is losing teeth which can be replaced.

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368 Posts
IC = Kesh Yael Trevas

(From last "Tales of the 8th Legion" RP)
Name: Kesh Yael Trevas

Age: 103 years.

Homeworld: Nostramo

Physical Appearance:
Although shorter than most, Keshyael has a very heavy build; even amongst his brothers, he is noted for stamina and endurance. His hair, face and body are kept meticulously hair-free, taking time to shave his skin (where missions permit) as he sees contact with people outside of the Legion as possibly polluting his pure essence gene-gifted by the Primarch.

Unlike other of the Legion, he only carries one tattoo, a realistic full head rendering of his human skull beneath (his natural skin colour makes up the ‘bone’ element and the rest of his head is shaded and/or coloured black to look as skeletal as possible).

Outside of his armour, both of his arms are very obviously bionic. However, they have a more ‘industrial’ appearance (rather than trying to be lifelike or cutting-edge quality/style) with exposed cabling and muscle fibres intertwined through harder black steel plates/hinges/etc.

If possible[?] he appears to be left-handed.

Armour Appearance:
His full suit of Mark 3 armour appears “battered around the edges”, but is kept in good condition.
This used to belong to his first Sergeant, Yael Grask.
His armour is mainly basic midnight blue, but his elbow pads and knee pads are bone coloured and are intricately inlaid with gold kill-markings with either of two symbols : the Legion’s number for every fortress he has helped to fell, or with a lightning bolt for each heavy tank eliminated.
He wears 2 nameplates (“Kesh” and “Yael“) on his right shoulder pad. Over his groin and upper thigh armour, he wears a tasset belt which initially appears to be chainmail, but it is made up of the finger-bones of defeated enemy vehicle/tank crews.

When amongst the Legion, he has a ready smile and is enthusiastic during training and pre-battle, often carrying this through to combat situations, using it to taunt enemies. There’s nothing wrong with his memory, but saying things aloud also helps him to remember the battles more clearly, helping him learn and making him a more efficient killer for next time.
He knows that others might look to him for inspiration, but he’s not cut out to be a direct leader and is happy with this role in life.
Not to the extent of being intrusive or knowing ‘inner secrets, but he is watchful and tries to support his brothers by knowing as much about the Legion’s structures and personnel as he can (including names/icons of people serving in other Companies).

Kesh might have a bit of ‘hero-worship’ towards Yael as he dedicates his successes not only to himself and his wargear, but to Yael’s memory. He doesn’t mind the comparison, as Yael (to him) was a good example to follow.

Marine Class: Veteran

Born into a life of privileged luxury, Kesh was surrounded by high-living and all of the debauchery that only the wealthiest families could afford.
Although he initially revelled in it, as his childish consciousness grew he realised that it was wrong and he saw that the endless parties were merely a front for fear which began to permeate their mansions due to the increasing paranoia and violence outside.

Soon, instead of being a victim of crime, he indulged in it. His upbringing had already taught him to casually discard people like rubbish and he had no problem with taking part in drive-by shootings from his limousine or abandoning bodyguards in ‘the wrong part of town’ just to see what would happen.
Contempt towards his family grew as he watched them cower still further behind gates and walls until one night rampage came to their doors. He gave the intruders access to the family armouries and took part in the ransacking of his own home. His increasing violence even startled most of the attackers around him.
This brought him to the attention of the Legion and he proved himself during training, demonstrating higher endurance than his peers.
This trait has continued through the period of implanting: where possible, he asked for lower dosages of anaesthetics to be used than normal (as though trying to purge the excesses of his family through the medium of pain?).
His unusual levels of endurance have continued into life as a full Marine, too.

During an accident in space, Kesh’s first Sergeant (Yael Grashk) was sucked out into space and died before he could be recovered. Kesh lost both of his arms when they were cut off by a closing airlock whilst he was trying to pull Yael back into the ship.

Whilst he recovered, Kesh requested that the rudimentary-looking arms of the servitor who had caused the accident be grafted on as replacements for his own lost limbs. They are a reminder for him to always be vigilant; about what can happen if you let your guard down for even a moment.

His main young adulthood experiences have taught him that the weak flee for the relative safety of vehicles and behind fortifications when fear takes them. So he has taken on the role of destroying these refuges, making it easier for his battle-brothers to get to the soft flesh inside.

Having been allowed to join by Xandrek, Kesh knows he has a lot to prove to this new unit and hopes he will be worthy of his new brothers.

Weapons = Boarding Shield & Chainfist & Plasma Gun.
Equipment = frag + krak grenades, 2 bionic arms

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233 Posts
Revan, technically a chain hammer or maul is a power weapon with one or more chain blades. It would basically just function like a chainfist or Red Wakes lightning claw/chain fist weapons.

I'll just stick with the maul i suppose

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106 Posts
Name: Pelegon

Age: 153

Homeworld: Olympia

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
Melta Bombs
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.

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Discussion Starter · #18 ·
Off to a gaming weekend, be back monday guys.!

The Night Lords and their allies of Knight House Artaris are off to war!

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I Name: Shrayvus Droglan

Age: 84
Home world: Nostramo

Legion class: Legion veteran

Equipment: Bolt pistol
Melta Bombs

Physical appearance: Shrayvus is a tall, slim figure. His skin is very white even for a Night Lord and his skeleton looks as if it might burst through the skin. There is only a paper thin amount of skin, so Shrayvus makes sure his skeleton is in tip-top condition and his bones not easily broken. His hands are crooked which make them look like talons. His hair is kept down to the bottom of his sharp edged ears, and of course he has the coal black eyes of a Night Lord.
Shrayvus has a hooked nose which gives him a creepy,vile appearance and his toes are pointed at the edges. His slim appearance makes Shrayvus able to slink into the shadows easily. Despite his tall, slim appearance Shrayvus is surprisingly strong and incredibly fast. Shrayvus is often thought to be the weakest but his opponents underestimate him every time. His voice is a deep low voice, barely above a whisper. His creepy voice strikes fear into mens' hearts. He is scarred from head to toe from 70 years of combat, the most notable a scar caused by an Ork tusk striking from the top of his forehead and through his eye.

Armor appearance: Shrayvus possesses a suit of Mark V armor. The back of the helmet forms to make a "tail(sort of like the elite helmets in Halo) and there are three white lines on each side of his dark blue armor, each 3 under the eyes. The helmet eyes are crimson enough to make it look like blood is pouring out of his eyes. It was forged in the Maiden Of Sorrow by Shrayvus himself. The pauldrons have spikes lining the outline. The entire armor has a scarlet lining on itself. The most notable feature are three black words scribbled on the torso in high gothic. The words read " Bringer Of Death" and is what he is called by his enemies.
The greaves and bracers are covered in lightning that goes all the way from the upper arm to the toes. The boots are ironically pointed like dress shoes and this somehow increases the speed of Shrayvus. He has talons for fingers which can scratch through 4 centimeters of ceramite.

Personality: Shrayvus is both extremely intelligent and calm and collected.His Motto is " It's either us or them, and no one gave you permission to die." He cares about his squadmates and leaves no one behind. He is on alert until every enemy is dead. He has a shoot first ask questions later attitude but this does not mean he will disobey orders. He has other ways of killing an opponent other than a quick sweep of a Chainsword. He is a very disciplined disciplined Astartes who always follows his orders no matter what. Shrayvus is happy to accept a challenge but knows when he needs to make a "strategic withdrawal" from his opponent, though he'll come back a minute or two later.

Background: Born to a father who was leader of a major gang, and a mother who died shortly after his birth, Shrayvus had a rough childhood. He was only 9 when he killed a man, a rival gang member who pulled a gun on his father. He would raid caravans from the upper hive and would also sling explosives at the spires. His father told him that the rich men killed poor men, even if they were innocent and not criminals. Shrayvus was in a firefight with a rival gang and when he returned to his pathetic excuse for a home, four stick with a metal sheet on top, his father was a corpse, his head blood splatter from a hellfire round.

Shrayvus would begin a six month long hunt for the killer, eventually finding the murderer and killing him with his bare hands. When he was 14 he was one of a fresh batch of neophytes. He was at the top of his unit with flying colors so it wasn't long before Shrayvus could don the sacred armor of a Battle-Brother. He was assigned to 1st Claw, 3rd Company. They were deployed to the Lathros sector from a large scale Xenos speciesinvasion. This species was unlike anything the Imperium had ever experienced before. They had crablike legs that could eviscarate a man in the blink of an eye and they were smart enough to steal Imperium along with other races' technology. This would spark a 60 year long campaign between Shrayvus and the Xenos. Not to mention the constant Ork WAAAAAAAGHS! that besieged the sector. Shrayvus counted each and every one of his kills, which all calculated to equal 14,768.

The unit's final battle would be what we now call the Drop Site Massacre, where a squad of Raven Guard hefting an auto cannon would mow down the units where they stood. Shrayvus slaughtered his way through the Raven Guard line until the enemy's backs were to him. He would then go on to slaughter 4 Veteran-Sergeants , their heads now rattling on chains around his waist. However, Shrayvus was wounded from a plasma blast blowing into his torso. Luckily, Shrayvus was alive and made his way to Xandrek's Thunderhawk. Xandrek welcomed him in and said that it was great to have "brothers that follow orders". This led Shrayvus to the Apothecarion, where he met the rest of 1st Claw.
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