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Once more, there was a rumbling in the fortress. What was rumbling, few could identify. It was not anything tangible to be felt, and produced no noise to be heard, even to the genehanced ear of an Astartes, or one of the many xenos species that maintained something akin to an embassy. No, it was not a rumbling that any scientist would call such, nothing seismic or mechanical. It was a call, however, and those that needed to hear it, did. A psychic summons, from the Deepest, Darkest Depths of the Liber. And it would be terrible to behold. =][= Hail brothers and sisters of the Liber! Once again the Liberalia has come around and we have ourselves the honour of being the centre of attention. Regardless, I would like to ask both Liberites and other members of B&C to dust off any old DIYs they have and give them another shot. Now's the time to crank out the old creativity. The IRON GAUNTLET returns! After four years gone, it returns once more- with thanks to @Olis for running it back in 2017, and @Dosjetkafor the 2020 running of the Gauntlet, - and a welcome sight it is. Now, of course, just entering is not enough! There is an expectation that we will have members who will accomplish all five challenges. If the old Iron Gauntlets are anything to go by, they will number few indeed! But, certainly, those who push themselves and achieve all that is asked of them, then they shall be rewarded with a specific and unique badge. But do not be daunted. This is supposed to be fun... in a roundabout way. If you think you can only complete specific challenges, then only enter those ones. There is nothing here saying that you must complete them all or automatically fail. Do what you can. Just remember the idea is to push yourself. To register for this Challenge or any others make the following statement: I, <your name>, of the <Chapter/Warband/Regiment/Klan/Craftworld/Sept/Legio/Gang/other organization name> take up your Challenges. I vow, before my brothers and sisters of the B&C to complete Challenge <challenge number> and submit it to the Liber before the deadline. I vow to support my fellow challengers to the best of my ability. May the Emperor/the Dark Gods/Gork and Mork/Hive Mind/other 40k deity/Brother Argos curse me if I fail. [Please leave a link to your article so I can update the first post.] The Challenges: Challenge the First * Bronze: Complete a 1,000+ word article describing the origins and history of your organization and post constructive criticism in other DIY threads; * Silver: Complete a 2,000+ word article describing the origins and history of your organization and post constructive criticism in other DIY threads; * Gold: Complete a 3,000+ word article describing the origins and history of your organization and post constructive criticism in other DIY threads. -> Duration: 17th March – 17th May (2 months) Note: The format of your article is not strictly relevant, though it is encouraged to follow the usual DIY guidelines. (If you're not familiar with the article types, check out @Brother Tyler's article template thread linked here. I also encourage you to check out the rest of Liber Resources if you're stuck for ideas and/or looking for some solid advice from renowned Liberites of old.) Challenge the Second * Bronze: Fully assemble, paint and base a Kill Team (at minimum: three models) representing your organization; * Silver: Fully assemble, paint, and base a Combat Patrol (at minimum: one CHARACTER, one BATTLELINE, and one additional unit) representing your organization; * Gold: Fully assemble, paint, and base a Strike Force (at minimum: one HQ, one BATTLELINE, and five additional units) representing your organization. -> Duration: with 17th May – 17th July (two months) Note: If your organization represents an Aeronautica Imperialis, Adeptus Titanicus, Blackstone Fortress (BSF), Legiones Imperialis, or Necromunda organization, use the following tiers: * Bronze: Fully assemble, paint and base a Flight (at minimum two Aeronautica aircraft), a single Titanicus Titan, a Banner (at minimum three Titanicus Knights), [LI I’m not familiar with, if you’re doing them, let me know and I’ll figure something out], half an Exploration Team (at minimum two BSF Adventurers), half a Hostile Swarm (at minimum four BSF Hostiles), OR a demi-Gang (at minimum four Necromunda Gangers); * Silver: Fully assemble, paint and base a Squadron (at minimum four Aeronautica aircraft), a demi-Maniple (at minimum two Titanicus Titans), a Lance (at minimum six Titanicus Knights), [LI I’m not familiar with, if you’re doing them, let me know and I’ll figure something out], an Exploration Team (at minimum four BSF Adventurers), a Hostile Swarm (at minimum eight BSF Hostiles), OR a Gang (at minimum eight Necromunda Gangers); * Gold: Fully assemble, paint and base a Group (at minimum six Aeronautica aircraft), a Maniple (at minimum four Titanicus Titans), a Household (at minimum nine Titanicus Knights), [LI I’m not familiar with, if you’re doing them, let me know and I’ll figure something out], a reinforced Exploration Team (at minimum six BSF Adventurers), a reinforced Hostile Swarm (at minimum twelve BSF Hostiles), OR a reinforced Gang (at minimum twelve Necromunda Gangers); Challenge the Third * Bronze: Post a battle report of a game you played with your organization force created in Challenge #2; * Silver: Post a battle report, with EITHER pre- and post-battle fluff (500 words each) OR turn-by-turn photos/maps, of a game you played with your organization force; * Gold: Post a battle report, with pre- and post-battle fluff (500 words each) AND turn-by-turn photos/maps, of a game you played with your organization force. -> 17th July to 17th August (1 month) The Penultimate Challenge * Bronze: Create a dataslate (converted and painted model, fluff, custom rules and stats) representing a notable character from your organization; * Silver: Create two dataslates representing two notable characters from your organization; * Gold: Create three dataslates representing three notable characters from your organization. -> Duration: 17th August to 17th September (1 month) The Final Challenge * Bronze: Write a story about your organization that is between 1000 and 1999 words in length; * Silver: Write a story that is between 2000 and 2999 words in length; * Gold: Write a story that is 3000+ words in length. -> Duration: 17th September to 17th December (3 months) And finally, I'd like to wish you all the best of luck for the upcoming challenges! Remember to push back the boundaries of what you thought you could achieve and, most importantly, have fun! P.S. If you have an issue or question and you haven't gotten a reply in a couple of days from one of the Mods, feel free to send a PM to the Moderators on the list below (make sure to include them all in the PM so whoever sees it first can answer): @Brother Cambrius @Daimyo-Phaeron Lenoch @Kelborn @Lysimachus A note on organization: Fraters’ vow posts will be linked in the main post Fraters’ vow posts are asked to have links to each of their threads elsefora, through the entire challenge This is to help the organizer keep track of who’s doing what challenge, etc Threads for the other challenges will be linked in the main post Frater are also asked to tag their threads with 'Iron Gauntlet 2024' for sorting/ease of searchbar use Best of luck to any and all who choose to participate! I look forward to seeing your DIYs!

Hail, Frater! Today, on the Liberalia Martiale, The IRON GAUNTLET has returned once more! Those of you who have been around the board for several years perhaps remember the last Iron Gauntlet, last run in 2020, and then before in 2017. Those of you who have joined after 2020 may not know the name--but I assure you, you will in time! The Iron Gauntlet is the Liber's Premiere DIY event--a year-long challenge, composed of five smaller challenges, each with three tiers designed to challenge fraters' creativity to the utmost. I invite all of you to visit the Liber, and consider its rigors, and perhaps take up the challenges, to prove yourselves worthy of the Iron Gauntlet! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go searching through the Deepest Darkest Depths of the Liber, and see where the accursed relic has got off to this time. Perhaps the kitchens, I don't think they've been searched (or cleaned) for years....

Well, this took much longer than expected as there was a lot to repair, throw away and remake in the 13 years since I wrote the article for my first army. But here is how it stands right now for all you delightful fluff maulers to enjoy. +++++ THE SONS OF DOOM A Chapter that has pushed itself through constant trials of torment and endurance in their very short history, the Sons of Doom display the classic traits of an Imperial Fist descendant. With their fierce and aggressive countenance in the eyes of impossible odds against the forces that threaten the Ultima Segmentum and Imperium at large, the Chapter refuse to falter as they advance upon the foe in a storm of firepower, until they tear the foe apart toe to toe with blade and fist. Chapter Symbol CHAPTER NAME: Sons of Doom GENE-SEED (PREDECESSOR): Crimson Fists (Imperial Fists) FOUNDING: 26th, 747.M41 CHAPTER MASTER: Oros Sirion HOMEWORLD: Auton, Amdo Cluster SEGMENTUM: Ultima FORTRESS MONASTERY: Onyxspire (on Gravik, Auton's Moon) COLORS: Azure and Bronze SPECIALTY: Aggressive Assault and Asset Defence STRENGTH: ~800 Astartes 450 First-born / 350 Primaris BATTLE-CRY: Call : "Death is a gift!" Answer: Accept it! History Brother Athiair of 5th Company prior to the Hadean Assault. Right knee-pad and shoulder-pad trim denote Company. C reated in 747.M41 during the 26th Founding, the Sons of Doom were created from the seed of the Crimson Fists to plug the gaps left behind in the aftermath of the First Tyrannic War, which had blunted a vast amount of the Imperium’s defenders in the Utima Segmentum. Taking the Chapter roster number of 412, inherited after the mysterious annihilation of the Shield Brethren chapter a few centuries prior, some murmured their inheritance of their number was an ill-omen and courted fate to go against them. But the newly formed Chapter paid no heed as they grew in number, learning their craft alongside Marshal Gredus’ ‘Aberios Crusade’. The young Chapter, grown from the small retinue of Crimson Fists chosen by newly promoted Chapter Master Dolomitis, adapted themselves to the aggressive, close quarters tactics of the Black Templars that had been sworn to train the new Chapter. They chose their name to be the ‘Sons of Doom’, as their sworn pledge and duty as sons of the Imperium was to be the doom of all those who dared to defy the Emperor. After a near half a century of training and growing to a complement of over five hundred Astartes, the Sons of Doom fledged themselves from the Aberios Crusade and forged out across the Ultima Segmentum’s galactic spiral arm. After establishing their new homeworld upon the extremely volcanically active world of Auton and embedding themselves into its culture over the generations, undertaking their colours in a way to tie the Chapter to their new home and its people to remind themselves of who they fight for. Auton was strategically placed to allow for rapid response to threats in the gaps the Sons of Doom had been created to fill, the chapter sought to grow and establish their influence across the Amdo Cluster, with numerous victories as they grew to full strength, notably against the marauding Chaos Marine warband of the Hatred’s Tools and ending the threat of Warboss Nekshredda. But the first moment and arguably, one of their most catastrophic moments of ill-fate befell them decades later in 992.M41. The Gaia Harrowing R eaching the Gaia Primus system after receiving distress calls about severe uprisings upon the system’s major planets, the Sons of Doom answered the call to cleanse the region of the rebels under the banner of the “Imperium Respawned”. The manufactorum worlds of Holmna and Driax, paired with the Hiveworld of Gaia itself was a vital lynchpin in providing material for the chapter and a myriad of forces nearby. Deploying the Second, Third and Fifth Companies, alongside a myriad of other Imperial forces, the Sons of Doom prosecuted a vicious war of fire and fury in the underhives of Gaia and amongst the manufactora of Driax and Holmna. The reasons behind these uprisings however became horrendously clear upon the discovery of Genestealers, and as the light of the Astronomican disappeared within a week of this knowledge Hive Fleet Kraken arrived. The ensuing warfare that followed as the Tyranid hordes fell upon the worlds is one that matches many tales of horror involving the devouring xenos. As the Sons of Doom were left stranded across the three worlds, alongside their human Imperial allies, they prepared to defend the soil of the Imperium, after their ships had been rendered useless and destroyed from the sheer numbers of Bioships that emerged from the void before any valid evacuation could take place. As the weeks of gruelling combat and survival passed, the Sons of Doom were whittled to near the very last across all three worlds. The Remnants and Memory of Gaia Three grievously wounded Astartes were interred into the new Chapter’s remaining Dreadnought sarcophagi, each becoming sacred links to their past where they stubbornly stood their ground against impossible odds. As the chapter sought to rebuild themselves slowly, with the catastrophic loss of geneseed from the terrible events that unfolded, the Sons of Doom remade the standards of the three companies, each displaying the planet they fought on proudly behind the golden skull and scythes that was the symbol of the Chapter. These company standards are now sacred relics that remind the Sons of Doom of their past and to never give up in the face of the impossible when the lives of Humanity were at stake. Driax soon fell with the complete loss of the Third Company as a retribution fleet containing the rest of the chapter arrived, launching a brutal multi-planetary assault to purge the Tyranid foe from its surface. Alongside their allies, including the Autonian 44th Armoured Regiment from their own homeworld and the forces of Demi-Legio Hastus to reclaim the Mechanicum manufactora. Reinforcing the beleaguered and exhausted Astartes upon Holmna and Gaia and bringing fire and vengeance upon the fallen of Driax, the retribution fleet broke the back of the splinter of Hive Fleet Kraken with the death of their synapse minds, paid in blood and fire. The death toll upon the Sons of Doom from Gaia Primus was high indeed, with the complete loss of the Third Company and all Captains, with only twelve and twenty-four surviving from the Second and Fifth companies respectively. Returning to Auton with the remnants of their lost wargear and few bodies that hadn’t been devoured, the Sons of Doom committed their fallen brethren to the tombs of their Fortress Monastery upon the moon of Gravik. Chapter Master Dolomitis swore the Sons of Doom would rebuild and to their former strengths and remain unbroken against the enemies of the Imperium. The Gaia Cluster he declared, displayed the chapter’s fortitude and stubbornness at the very thought of retreating and self-preservation over the Imperium’s inhabitants. Following these catastrophic events, the Sons of Doom sought to deploy to eradicate any threat of the Tyranids as much as possible, as Hive Fleet Kraken continued to split of into smaller splinter fleets, bringing ruin across the Ultima Segmentum. But with their numbers cut drastically, the Chapter were dismayed at not being able to prevent a lot of the losses wrought by the all-consuming xenos. As a result, the Tyranids are viewed with a vehement abhorrence and hatred amongst the Sons of Doom and if any intelligence is received of Genestealer Cults, the Chapter deploys rapidly to purge the threat. Noctis Aeterna and Reward of Duty A s the Sons of Doom sought to rebuild from their heavy losses following the Gaia Harrowing, the Imperium at large began to face its darkest time since the Horus Heresy with the 13th Black Crusade spilling out form Cadia and leading to Noctis Aeterna. The tearing open of the Cicatrix Maledictum led to numerous threats emerging and the fortunes of the Chapter to remain grave, as the Chaos warband of the Hatred’s Tools spilled out from the tears in reality, heading towards the Amdo Cluster in a bid to settle their grudge against the Sons of Doom and others in the centuries prior. With little in the way of reinforcement as the Imperium descended into tumult and chaos with the Astronomican shrouded in darkness, the Sons of Doom grimly held the line against the Hatred’s Tools and their daemonic allies across the Amdo Cluster. With losses mounting, including the shattering of the Sixth Company’s Strike Cruiser, ‘Firespite’ in a cataclysmic warp-drive detonation after being infiltrated by Warp Talons mid transit, numerous planets fell or were reduced to Exterminatus and the toll kept rising amongst the Sons of Doom. The young Chapter remained fiercely steadfast despite the ill-fortunes befalling them, with Master Dolomitis declaring that this was the ultimate test of conviction and duty as sons of Dorn and the Emperor. The war within the Amdo Cluster eventually came to a head upon the Shrineworld of Erdavus, which had become corrupted with a warp rift opening in the holy city of Saint Justina. First Master Carrek Dolomitis The founding Chapter Master of the Sons of Doom, Carrek Dolomitis is an Astartes that has served the Sons of Doom since their founding, now interred within a Contemptor Dreadnought’s sarcophagus after grievous wounds banishing the Hatred’s Tools’ Daemon Prince, Lord Kalkus in 021.M42 at Erdavus. His enormous double-headed axe, which was rarely seen without him whether he be in armour or not, known as “Doomstrike” has now been placed in the main chapel of the Sons of Doom’s fortress monastery on Gravik, to be returned to combat when called for by the new Chapter Master, Oros Sirion to wield, or one he has blessed the honour to carry it into battle. Committing their entire force of approximately four hundred Astartes, the Sons of Doom sought to stop the Chaos force upon Erdavus. In a colossal open battle, the sons of Auton managed to break the back of the Chaos rampage, relying on fixed points of firepower as their infantry moved around them to break the tide of daemonic warmachines and bitter Chaos Marines that emerged from the rift. Chapter Master Dolomitis himself would face the Hatred’s Tool’s own leader, the Daemon Prince Lord Kalkus in a duel that shattered the earth beneath them, before Dolomitis was laid low as he banished the Daemon Prince back to the Warp with a titanic strike to the monster’s heart, receiving a mortally crushing blow from the monster as it flailed in anguish at being cast back into the warp. With the loss of their leader, the daemonic forces began to melt back to the Warp and the Hatred’s Tools sought to escape. As the threat diminished and the remaining Sons of Doom counted their losses and recovered their fallen brethren, an impossible miracle appeared with the arrival of elements of the Indomitus Crusade as it made its way to Macragge, including the arrival of the Primaris greyshields. The news that these new Astartes were to become the new reinforcement and brethren of the Chapter initially brought scepticism amongst the Sons of Doom, fearing that despite their sacrifices in the past centuries, they were to be replaced and forgotten. But after Master Dolomitis had been interred within the Chapter’s sole Contemptor pattern Dreadnought’s sarcophagus gifted from their founding, the reborn First Master declared the Primaris marines to be a gift from the Emperor and was the Sons of Doom’s reward for their duty to stubbornly remain unbroken against the fates that conspired to have destroyed them. Returning to Auton, the Sons of Doom welcomed their newer brethren, integrating them into their shattered forces to rebuild once more, empowered and filled with a hope that their duty and faith had been rewarded by the Emperor and His Imperium. Homeworld and Recruitment The Promotion Tithe An odd tradition is held amongst the Chapter, that is viewed to them as a reminder of the Sons of Doom’s future beyond their lives and of what each Astartes owes their brothers. Whenever a brother has risen a rank, they must spend a month alone down the hellish mines of Drokanas, to the southern pole of Auton, retrieving the ores and minerals within, which are used to build and repair their wargear. The mines themselves are fraught with peril, both from the risk of explosions and also from saurian predators that sometimes lurk within the dark passages, drawn to the sound of the mining and scent of flesh, providing a test of combative skill and vigilance whilst the Astartes complete their tithe. Should a battle brother be promoted whilst in active combat, he doesn't receive the full uniform of his rank until he's "paid his tithe to the Chapter’s future”. Their squad insignia or heraldry is then covered in a grey cross until it is fulfilled. Once the Marine has fulfilled the tithe, he's fully promoted in a ceremony in the eyes of the Chaplaincy and commanding staff present. A uton, is a hellishly violent, volcanic planet where humanity has managed to cling onto life in this constantly changing, barren and inhospitable wasteland. The planet's surface is often changing across its numerous tectonic plates, with new mountains of fire growing out of the black, basaltic ground annually, making it almost impossible for the Imperium to map in the active regions. But due to its violently active nature, the planet is rich with mineral resources that are mined and scoured for the Sons of Doom’s supplies and to the Adeptus Mechanicus of the nearby Forgeworld of Adelan-Tertius. The calmer regions of stability are found in the poles of the planet, where the majority of the population live in varied tribes and clans, notably the Ordovs and Silurs, which control a large amount of the local politics and trade amongst the Autonians. These clans are always at war with each other for dominance of the viable stable lands to live upon and for the precious resources and minerals that are mined from the planet’s crust. The human inhabitants praise the Sons of Doom as their watchful protectors despite the clans’ constant battles for dominance and survival, unknown to them that the Chapter is responsible for ensuring that the turmoil and constant wars between the tribes never truly cease, achieved through politics using their chapter serfs and secret sabotage and assassination missions, ensuring that there is always a viable source of young warriors to recruit. Initiates are brought to the chapter's fortress, based on Gravik, which is Auton’s sole moon. Every five years, the Chapter also holds a sacred tournament of battle and skills between the young champions of the clans, where peace is enforced amongst the humans on pain of death for any who would break it during the event. Aspirants of the tournament wear traditional armour from the planet’s ancient history, consisting of blue war paint over their bodies and wearing bronze armour upon their shoulders, shins and entire left arm. It is from this traditional armour that the Sons of Doom created their unique armour heraldry as they sought to embed themselves into Auton’s culture and be seen as the watchful warriors of legend that protect and rule over the region. The Sons of Doom often train on Auton, due to its violent nature and unpredictability, making the reflexes and senses of the Marines as sharp as can be and to teach the skill of self-awareness and spotting risks. Although some have been unfortunate to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and encased forever in a tomb of volcanic rock, these incidents are surprisingly rare, given the danger of Auton’s more active regions. Many Astartes hold and trophy burns from training upon the planet, some requiring bionics to replace limbs ruined or lost. This training also includes their methods of ensuring that the tribes of Auton are always in some form of war between each other, through numerous assassination, reconnaissance and sabotage missions. Geneseed T he geneseed of the Sons of Doom is deemed stable, continuing to carry the Imperial Fists' trait of the Sus-an Membrane and Betchers Gland continuing to be rejected by the progenoids implanted into the aspirant. As the Sons of Doom hold the strong beliefs of their pasts linking to their duty, the genetic legacy of the geneseed is revered to an extreme extent, as it carries the histories of their previous owners. To lose any amount of geneseed, whether through corruption or destruction is a grave moment of sadness to the Astartes of the Chapter following the end of their battles/campaigns. A 'Vigil of Lost Legacy' is held within the Transept Sanctorum in the Fortress Monastery, Onyxspire, where the legacy of these lost geneseeds are read out as the names of those who bore those blessed progenoids are inscribed in gold on the sable 'Columns of the Lost', which tower above the Sons of Doom and their servants in their prayer. Combat Doctrine T he Sons of Doom are a fiercely aggressive fighting force, utilising the teachings from their founding cadre in the Crimson Fists, alongside their growth in the Aberios Crusade to bring forth a punishing amount of firepower in a constant storm as they advance, or redeploy when in defence to plug gaps or capitalise on the assaulting enemy’s weak spot. Their heavy losses following Noctis Aeterna and their re-forging afterward in the advent of the Primaris have also been integral in the alteration of their fighting styles as they have readily welcomed their new brethren to the Autonian brotherhood. The Chapter rely heavily on their infantry assets and they often utilise their Battleline and first-born Tactical squads in paired 5-man demi-squads to allow for flanking and covering fire in their rapid assaults under a storm of boltgun fire, accompanied by their assault assets in the form of bikes and Land Speeders to harass and pin the enemy, as the withering bolter line advances. With the addition of their Primaris brethren, the Sons of Doom have rapidly adopted the use of Inceptors and Suppressors to augment the mobility of their attacks whilst their Intercessor brethren act as moving bastions of firepower. The use of flamers and plasma weaponry is a favoured item amongst commanders and tactical squads, viewing them as exacting the purging fires of Auton upon the enemy. The Chapter possess a small number of Land Raiders that often spearhead their attacks alongside Predators and Razorbacks, providing a storm of firepower for the scant few Terminator suits they possess. Vanguard firstborn and more recently, Gravis armoured Aggressors often substitute for their might of the Terminators instead. Infiltrating units have not often been used by the Chapter, preferring to face the foe head on instead of hiding in the shadows, but the Sons of Doom are more than willing to utilise such actions as required in more protracted campaigns against Genestealer Cults and Chaos induced rebellions. The Chapter still possess a decent amount of heavy ordnance, with recent additions of the Repulsor and Impulsor to bolster their mobile firepower. When the Chapter must stand their ground over advancing towards their enemy, the Sons of Doom heavily utilise their tanks to act as the strongpoint of defiance and punishment, whilst their infantry move as needed to plug gaps and break weak points within the enemy’s advance. Organisation T he Sons of Doom are a primarily codex oriented Chapter, who have embraced and accepted the newer changes wrought by Primarch Guilliman during the era Indomitus and the advent of the Primaris joining their number. Their rebuilding of their losses after Noctis Aeterna is still underway, with the Chapter nearing full operational strength at near 800 Astartes, with just under half being Primaris. Their command structure is standard current Codex practice, with the relatively unique practice of ensuring that squads are not filled with Astartes that have all descended from one clan upon Auton, but shared as equally as possible. Marks of their origins can be found upon their company kneepad or Cloaks of Office when ascended to the rank of Command. This practice has grown from the teachings of their founder, First Master Dolomitis, who instilled the importance of their origin to remind them what they fight for and that regardless of their birth, the Chapter’s duties itself overrides all their previous animosities. With their current rebuilding of their fighting force, the Sons of Doom are both growing their numbers of First-born and Primaris, to utilise the wargear at their disposal to the best of their abilities and to be fully restored to complete combat-readiness in the fastest way possible. A number of First-born have attempted and achieved the Calgarian Rites of becoming Primaris Marines, which is currently only permitted by those Astartes that have served for at least a century and have proven their strength and fortitude to undertake such a painful process. Those that survive and are reborn anew as Primaris are viewed amongst their brethren as walking icons of endurance and duty. The Chapter do not possess a large amount of Dreadnought chassis, with their honoured brethren only being summoned from their slumber in times of great need. Truly, it is a time of dire consequence for more than three Dreadnoughts to walk the fields of battle. The newer Redemptor Dreadnought pattern are slowly building in number, with supplies arriving from the tithed Forgeworld of Adelan-Tertius. Beliefs T he Sons of Doom view the Emperor as the great master who forged the Imperium together so that all humans could unite under one banner. They also believe him to be a great warrior who’s the “Grandfather” of the Chapter after their Primarch, Rogal Dorn who’s seen as the “Father”. The Chapter has fully embraced the teachings of First Master Dolomitis’ importance of taking root in their pasts and origins and the shared history all Sons of Doom hold, as they carry out their duties upon the battlefields. This is displayed in their clan or origin markings upon their armour and also with honour markings of campaigns that Astartes have participated in as they forge the history of the Sons of Doom with blade and boltgun. Being a young chapter with less than a millennium of history, the Sons of Doom hold a hopeful edge to their outlook on the Imperium’s future, tempered by the return of Primarch Guilliman, despite the cataclysmic events that have befallen the Chapter and the Imperium itself since the turn of the 42nd Millennium. So long as a son of Auton stands in the colours of the Sons of Doom, the Imperium still lives. Battlecry T he traditional battle-cry for the Chapter is in two parts, where the Sons of Doom’s commanders would roar at the enemy “Death is a gift,” with the rest of the Chapter then answering in unison “Accept it!” as they would charge. The Sons of Doom have also adopted roaring in unison “Doom” and also maintain the litany of the unbroken as they advance: "Unbowed. Unbroken. We stand eternal." ++++++++++++ Well, there we have it, 13 years later and updated. Still got a number of things to add, notably in the beliefs section and some other items, as by the Emperor's toenails, I have 13 years' worth of content I have done across the board to use and pick out. :dizzy: Cambrius

Legion Datafile: Beasts of Boudicca "And the Roots of the World reached deep into the earth, but even they could not reach there, where the Deep One lay dreaming without sleeping" Primary Data FoundingFirst Founding Legio NumeralVICognomen (Great Crusade)Wolves of Caliban Cognomen (Post-War of Secession)Beasts of Boudicca PrimarchVarus Nemestrinus (Segimer) HomeworldCaliban (Boudicca) [DESTROYED] AllegianceTraitoris Extremis Introduction Once, the Beasts of Boudicca prowled the stars as the Wolves of Caliban, the VIth Legion of the Emperor of Mankind. Led by their Primarch, Segimer, known to the Imperium as Varus Nemestrinus or as the King of Woad and Wyrd, they were an unstoppable, merciless force of nature, let loose as punishment upon those who would oppose the Emperor’s design. They were a savage, fierce force, noted for their uncompromising attitude to warfare and a curious tribal culture that hearkened back to the Primarch’s days amongst the mortals of his homeworld. They were counted amongst the Emperor’s most trusted assets, relied upon to do what others could – or would – not do. But it was all a lie. In secret, Segimer had pledged his soul to the Primordial Annihilator long before the Emperor had come to Caliban, and in the shadows he planned the destruction of his Father’s realm. When the War of Secession came, the Wolves of Caliban lay in wait, sowing discord and mayhem amongst the warring factions before finally revealing their true colours. With all pretence of loyalty cast off, the Legion went on to commit atrocities the scale and scope of which has never been eclipsed, bringing millions of Neverborn into the material world and drowning hundreds of worlds in blood and fire, all in service to the Ruinous Powers. In the end, it was Segimer’s own arrogance that led him to his death, and the breaking of his Legion. Seeking to make use of the Emperor’s weakened state after the Battle of Molech, he launched an all-out attack on the space station where his Father’s battered fleet was recovering. Tearing through the station’s defences with his Legion’s elite as his fleet massacred the loyalists in the void, Segimer finally confronted the Emperor of Mankind deep in the station’s bowels, only to die moments later as the Emperor revealed the trap he had lain for his errant son. With their Primarch and their entire command staff eliminated, the Wolves began a disorderly retreat, any semblance of discipline lost in the chaos and confusion that reigned in their ranks. When a second wave of loyalist vessels arrived in-system to finish what the Emperor had started, the Wolves of Caliban knew they were doomed. Only a bare handful of ships escaped the massacre, and those who managed to limp back to their homeworld found only a dead rock, scoured clean of all life by the newly-formed Adeptus Mechanicus. With no other option, the remaining Wolves of Caliban retreated into the Eye, where they would eventually transform into the myriad warbands that form the Beasts of Boudicca. Now, the Beasts are no more than petty raiders and pirates skulking in the shadow of the other Traitor Legions. Their hearts still burn with the desire to visit vengeance upon the Imperium for the death of their Primarch and homeworld, but without their Primarch to bind them together, their forces remain too scattered and disunited to threaten the loyalists’ holdings. But it is whispered that recently, a champion has risen among their ranks, one of legendary charisma and skill, who seeks to bring back his Legion from its slow and agonizing death… HISTORY Caliban The Wolves of Caliban’s homeworld was, as their name implies, the Death World of Caliban, located in what would later become the Segmentum Obscurus of the Imperial domain. They did not refer to the world as such amongst themselves – the Wolves were noted for using a variety of nicknames for the planet, such “The Hearth”, “The Great Mother”, or “Boudicca”, the latter term always spoken with a reverence for which no explanation was ever given. At first sight, Caliban was undeniably a beautiful world. The planet’s mountains and valleys were covered in dense, dark forests, through which clear streams and rivers ran; banks of mist rolled gently over the landscape at dawn and dusk; and all over the world one could experience the sights and sounds of a pure, natural ecosystem, untouched by the relentless industry of civilisation. Indeed, in the reports of those first human explorers who came to Caliban during our species’ diaspora across the stars, the world is described as nothing short of a paradise, a jewel amongst the stars – that is, until these explorers came face to face with Caliban’s original inhabitants. For Caliban’s forests were home to some of the foulest, most monstrous creatures ever seen in the galaxy. Creatures that had no right to exist in any sane universe stalked the forests, the valleys and the mountains, as varied in shape and size as the stars themselves. What few records remain of the first human civilisation on Caliban paint a horrifying picture of their struggle against the sanity-rending beasts that were now hunting them, a struggle that only ended when the few survivors escaped the planet in their last void-capable ship, never to be heard of again. Later, much later in fact, Caliban was recolonized, this time not by naïve explorers but by a hardy military expedition. Upon encountering the beasts, these proud men and women dug their heels into the dirt and set out to exterminate the creatures once and for all. They fought the horrifying beings with bullet and blade, driving many of the lesser breeds into extinction, and built vast fortresses meant to withstand the assaults of even the greatest of the monsters. It is in these holdings that the first Orders of Caliban were formed, and from where these warrior-knights would sally forth in later years to strike against the darkness that surrounded them. Despite the victories the Orders won in those dark, unsung days, it was clear to all that the battle against the beasts could never truly be won. In the end, there would always be too few knights to fend off too many creatures; and some of the greatest threats to the settlements could only be harmed by the most exotic weaponry in the Orders’ arsenals. Whilst the common populace might give in to despair in the face of such a truth, the Orders themselves steeled their souls with the hope that one day, they would find a way to rid their world of the monsters that dwelled upon it. But it is whispered that one Order, perhaps broken by the prospect of failure or seduced by powers beyond their understanding, turned to a darker path to victory, and in doing so, became something worse than what it had sought to destroy: the Knights of Lupus. But before the other Orders of Caliban could discover the full extent of the Knights of Lupus’ perfidy, a bright comet appeared in the planet’s night sky, heralding the coming of the one who would change Caliban’s fate forever… The coming of Segimer The Thucydes Named after a famous Athenoi historian from Mankind’s ancient history, the Thucydes were one of several Imperial organisations concerned with the recording of the history of the Great Crusade. Unlike the Remembrancers, who would grow popular within the Imperial administration later in the Great Crusade, the Thucydes were scholars first and foremost, dedicated to the compilation, editing and archiving of accurate histories of the Imperium’s experiences among the stars. To that end, the Thucydes were attached to all sorts of expeditions, military and otherwise; for no part of the Imperium’s history could go unrecorded. Initially, their work was well-received in both the civilian and military branches of the Imperium – the idea of being immortalized in the pages of the Imperium’s grand history appealed to many indeed. But as the Great Crusade wore on, the Thucydes were increasingly pressured to embellish the tales of the Imperium’s victories and downplay its defeats and failures. Revolts against Imperial rule were to be swept from the annals, the genocide of mutant populations erased from memory, and the ruthless exploitation of recently colonised worlds was to be outright ignored. Those among the Thucydes who spoke out against this perversion of their ideals were quickly silenced or branded as ‘anti-Imperial’ agents, and those who remained found their skills in decreasing demand. By the time Varus Nemestrinus took command of the VIth Legion, only a handful of Thucydes were still active. By chance, a group of these was present on the ship that carried the VIth Legion officers to their newly-found Primarch, and intrigued by their work, Varus petitioned the Emperor to attach them permanently to his Legion. From then on, the Thucydes were to record the Legion’s history, without embellishments or omissions – for Varus Nemestrinus felt that the truth, no matter how unwelcome or painful, should be embraced rather than banished. How the life-pods containing the infants that would one day become the Imperium’s greatest warlords were taken from the Emperor’s gene-labs and scattered throughout the galaxy, none can say. Even the Custodian Guard, the Emperor’s own bodyguards, have no answer for that question, even after ten thousand years of deliberation. Regardless of how it came to be, the Emperor’s sons were ultimately taken from Him, cast into the void and spat out on a variety of worlds. Some landed on prosperous, civilised worlds; others on barren wastelands devoid of human life. Some had to fight for their existence from the moment they woke; others were taken in by the local populace and raised as one of their own. Most of the stories of the Primarchs’ early lives, and the challenges and tragedies that came with them, have been lost to the vagaries of time, as such things must. The story of Segimer, however, is particularly obscure. Despite the Thucydes’ best efforts, the King of Woad and Wyrd never spoke of what happened to him in those first few years he spent on Caliban. Even the location of the crash-site of his life-pod remains a mystery to this day, although it appears to have been somewhere far from the civilised parts of the world, in those shrouded places where even the Orders of Caliban dared not tread. ++ The boy stares into Caliban’s night sky as he is tied to the stone slab at the center of the pillared structure. He does not resist when the hooded figures attach the ropes to his wrists and his ankles, nor when they smear the foul-smelling blueish paste unto his flesh. He does not fight back, even though he could, even though his body rails at the thought of being bound or leashed. He lies still, listening to the words and the chants of the people surrounding him, watching the smoke of the fires burning between the stone pillars drift upwards towards the stars. In the distance, he hears the wind rustling the leaves of the forest, and the howls of animals crying out in anticipation for what is to come. Even when the eight hooded figures draw their crude, onyx blades, the boy’s gaze does not shift from the midnight sky. Somewhere, deep inside his mind, he can hear a voice crying out, begging him to turn away, to flee – but he does not. Instead the boy stares into the void, wondering what it is he will see when the darkness takes him, and what will emerge from his journey to where the Deep One sleeps… ++ The Primarch himself usually began the tale of his life’s story with his first meeting with another human being - a member of one of the planet’s forest tribes, those few bands of humans who, against all odds, eked out a short, brutal existence in Caliban’s wilderness. He would describe how the man – a druid, as he later found out – came across him as he was feasting on a wolfhound he had slain moments before. What was said between them, the Primarch never did reveal, but he ended up following the druid to the tribe’s camp, where he was taken in and raised as one of the tribe’s own. He would go on to say that he took to his new life well, and eagerly fought and bled alongside his adopted brothers and sisters against the many dangers threatening his new home, becoming a fierce hunter and warrior in only a handful of years. Upon reaching adolescence, he passed the final rites of initiation, and was elevated as a true member of the tribe. This momentous occasion was marked both by the tattooing of his scalp – a tattoo none save the druids of the tribe were ever to see –, and the bestowal of the name he would carry until the day he died: Segimer. This story was later added to the’ ‘official’ history of the Primarch’s life as compiled by the Thucydes, albeit with the caveat that they had not been able to verify the claims for themselves, given that they too were prohibited from ever setting foot on Caliban itself. Despite this, it was readily accepted as the truth – for none could see any reason to doubt its veracity, and the story in itself was unremarkable enough to not draw suspicion; certainly compared to the tales of some of his brothers, whose tragedies are related elsewhere. However, ever since Segimer turned against the Emperor during the dark days of the War of Secession, the tale of his early years on Caliban, like the rest of his history, has come under closer scrutiny. Through these investigations, it has become increasingly clear that the Primarch had been enthralled to the Ruinous Powers from a very young age, perhaps even from the very beginning. In all his actions, both those before and after his reunification with the Emperor, the seeds of the ruin he would bring upon Mankind can be seen, sown by either his own hand or that of his servants. Imperial investigators have traced this trail of corruption to its very roots, and coupled with what the Adeptus Mechanicus uncovered in the camps of the tribespeople Segimer claimed as kin, some sliver of the truth has been lain bare. With utmost certainty do we now know that the tribes of Caliban had been corrupted by the Primordial Annihilator long before the Primarch had even arrived on the world, their heresy hidden from sight by the forests and caves in which they dwelled. It is our belief that these tribespeople and their wicked faith were instrumental in turning the Primarch of the VIth Legion against his gene-father, and that it was they who set in motion the events that would set the galaxy ablaze. The First War for Caliban Yet the tribespeople were far from the only warp-tainted humans on Caliban. Indeed, even in the settled parts of the world, where the Orders of Caliban held sway, corruption festered in the hearts and minds of the weak and weary. Whilst only fragmentary evidence on the Orders has survived – the result of Segimer’s thorough purge of all that could be traced back to them -, the few records that escaped this destruction hint at the many insidious threats the Orders were confronted with in the years Segimer was growing up among the tribes. Unnatural diseases, mutant uprisings, court intrigues and general unrest forced the Orders to increasingly look inwards, their extermination campaigns against the beasts of the forests temporarily put on hold as they struggled to maintain order amongst their charges. The extreme measures some Orders had to take to ensure the peace in their communities – ranging from witch hunts, summary executions, and in one case even the decimation of the population – began to lead them down a dark path of tyranny and oppression, which only bred more resistance to the Orders’ rule among the populace. In desperation, or perhaps in cruelty, some among the Orders turned their scientific and technological endeavours to the creation of a variety of instruments of control and domination, ranging from the mundane to the outright horrific. The forges of these Orders blazed with industry as they sought new means to combat the madness sweeping through the streets of their homes, and long-forgotten weapons of devastation and annihilation were brought back from hidden vaults as deterrents for both internal rebellion and outside interference. A few of them sought salvation in genetic experimentation and mass cybernetic enhancement, mutilating their subjects into things incapable of independent thought or action – or things so antithetical to human existence that our sources dare not name them. When the other Orders discovered these heinous practices, the backlash was immense. So horrified were they by the actions of their fellows, that they saw no other option but to eradicate them in their entirety. The revulsion they felt at what could only be described as the complete and utter perversion of their duty was enough for the remaining Orders to transcend their personal differences and unite themselves into one greater whole: The Grand Order of Caliban. The Grand Order descended upon the errant Orders with fire and fury, toppling fortresses and outposts, burning down settlements and putting entire populations to the sword. Neither quarter nor mercy were given in these grim battles, as both sides fought to preserve their own way of life at any cost. Caliban was set ablaze, its landscape scarred by the horrid weaponry unleashed upon its soil, its streets and cities covered in blood and ash, and its people dying in their millions. Slowly but certainly, the treasonous Orders began to fall, their rulers dragged from their holdings and executed by the Grand Order’s vengeful commanders. Stronghold after stronghold fell as the Grand Order marched on relentlessly, heedless of the casualties it was taking, increasingly blinded by its desire for vengeance against those who had defiled their homeworld and people. By the time the Grand Order reached the last few holdouts of its enemies, its strength had been greatly diminished – barely a fifth of its original numbers remained. And yet the Grand Order’s warriors fought on, determined to see this conflict end, and peace return to the lands. As the last of the Orders were being wiped out, one of the Grand Order’s armies stumbled upon the isolated stronghold of the Knights of Lupus – an Order about whom dark rumours had circulated long before the other Orders had turned to their vile methods. They had not been heard of throughout the entire war, which had led some to believe that they had been wiped out by the beasts of the forest – or perhaps, a rival Order. There was some truth to these rumours, as the Grand Order’s warriors discovered no more than an overgrown ruin, which was in the process of being reclaimed by Caliban’s ever-expanding forests. Curiously, there were no signs of any struggle or battle having occurred either inside or outside the fortress’ walls; nor was any trace found of the castle’s former occupants. It appeared as if they had all simply vanished, along with all their belongings and records – as if they had been erased from history itself. The only true clue as to the Knights of Lupus’ ultimate fate was found in the catacombs below the fortress – but what the Grand Order’s men found there was apparently so revolting that it was stricken from all records, and the fortress itself was atomized by controlled demolition. When the last Order was finally defeated by the Grand Order’s forces, the people of Caliban breathed a sigh of relief. Bloodied but unbroken, the men and women of Caliban could now turn their gaze to the future once more. The civil war had cost them much, but they would rebuild, as their ancestors before them. As the armies of the Grand Order began to march back to their homes, and their leaders turned their attentions to the restoring of their communities’ glory, the threat of the beasts of the forest, their primordial enemy, drifted ever further from their memory. None of them had questioned the sudden decrease in the creatures’ attacks when the civil war had begun in earnest – many believed that the horrific weaponry unleashed during the great battles between the Orders had been enough to scare them back into their hiding places. This assumption would cost them dearly – for as soon as the fighting between the Orders had ended, did a new enemy reveal itself… ++ Why am I here? The captive stared at the walls of the pit he had been thrown in. One could hardly call it a cell; it was no more than a natural hole in the soil, covered by a crude wooden grate. A poor substitute for the dungeons he was accustomed to; if he still had his armour, he would have broken out of this would-be prison in moments. But he did not have his armour. At the moment, he had nothing. Why do I still live? He could barely see anything. Both his immediate surroundings and the world beyond the grate were cast in a gloomy twilight. Here, in the depths of the forest, every shred of Caliban’s meagre sunlight was as much a luxury as water in the desert. He wondered if he would ever see it again, that distant star. If he would feel its warmth on his skin once more before the end. Will I die here? The man idly traced over the scars on his arms, his legs, and his chest. Each of them was a memory of a battle fought, a challenge met, an enemy defeated. With a measure of pride, he noted that he had never earned a scar on his back. Not even this time. Not even when all he had built had been brought down around him, he had not fled. He had not turned his back to his enemy. He had stood and he had bled, alongside the last of his knights, bringing death to the vile things that had come to destroy them, until at last they had been bested. They had fought well, all of them. Were they here, too? Satarna, Grandmaster of the Knights of Lupus, pondered these questions in silence. He could not tell how long it had been since he had been brought here. He found that he could not even recall how exactly he had ended up here; everything between the battle for the citadel and the present was no more than a blur, like a dream, fleeting and ephemeral. Perhaps he was dreaming; or perhaps he was already dead, and all this, the pit, the darkness, the pain – was the hell he had consigned himself to when he had opened that blasted tome. If only he had turned back. If only he had turned back from that place, if only he had let the tome burn along with it. If nothing else, at least his soul would have remained pure. He would still have risen to greatness – perhaps not to the heights he had achieved through the tome’s secrets, but high enough at least. High enough to make a difference. To inspire. To be something… more. More than the wretch he was now. More than a fool destined to die in the hole he had dug for himself. More than - No. Satarna growled, tightening his calloused hands into fists. I made my choice. I stand by it. But would I do it again? He unclenched his fists, and slowly turned his hands around. He studied the lines crossing his palms, as his mind mulled the question over. Would I? “Still alive, are we?” The voice hit him like a splash of cold water. Startled, Satarna jumped back, his hands instinctively reaching for weapons that weren’t there. His eyes darted around, looking for the source of the sound, but found nothing. A low chuckle echoed through the cave. “And lively, too. Calm yourself, Lord of Wolves…” A face appeared in the gloom on the other side of the grate. Two piercing blue eyes and a wolfish grin met Satarna’s gaze as he turned his attention to it. “… I have come to make you a deal.” ++ The death of the Orders The Emperor arrives The Great Crusade Pre-War of Secession Scheme COMBAT DOCTRINE Much like its organisation, the Wolves of Caliban’s combat doctrine was shaped primarily by the teachings of the Principia Belicosa. Whilst the Legion had a natural penchant for close combat, they did not specialize themselves in that aspect of warfare to the extent that certain other Legions did. Instead, they continually used and refined the strategies and tactics outlined in the Principia Belicosa, perfecting its combined-arms approach to the point that the Wolves of Caliban became the textbook example of how a Legion should operate in the field. When the War of Secession’s second phase began, it rapidly became clear that the Wolves of Caliban had not limited themselves to the Principia Belicosa’s teachings as much as was often believed. For rather than hurling its own warriors into the fray, as many of its peers did, the Legion heavily relied on the mortal auxiliaries its Discipline Corps had swayed to Traitors’ cause, using them to detrimental effect against the Loyalists whilst at the same time minimizing their own casualties. Indeed, much of its overall strategy now seemed to revolve around the conservation of its own strength, keeping it in reserve until the enemy was weakened enough to destroy with a well-aimed decapitation strike. Additionally, with all pretence of loyalty to the Imperium cast off, the Psykers amongst the Legion – who had continued to train in secret – were now free to unleash the full might of the Empyrean against the Legion’s enemies. Aside from the myriad powers that the Librariums of the Adeptus Astartes had taught its members before they had been disbanded, the former Librarians of the Wolves of Caliban now harnessed the raw essence of the Warp to rip tears in the fabric of reality, bringing scores of Daemons into the material world, or to empower weapons and armour with fell sorceries. The most gifted among their number specialized in the dark art of daemonic possession, turning their brothers (or, more often, unwilling sacrifices) into vessels for the Neverborn, or binding powerful daemons to their vehicles. As the War of Secession dragged on, and the Traitor Legions began to rely more heavily on the fell powers of the Empyrean, other changes were wrought in the ranks of the VIth – changes of a more physical kind. Those who fought against the Legion increasingly faced warriors who were more beast than man, both in temperament and in appearance. The most disfigured amongst them appeared as massive, wolf-like creatures, with clawed hands and feet, distended jaws and elongated teeth, their bodies covered in matted fur and scraps of ruined Power Armour. Post-battle dissection of these warriors revealed the horrid truth behind their origin. Unlike the possessed Astartes, they had not been artificially created by the Legion’s sorcerers, or even its dreaded Druid-cult; shockingly, it appeared that the Legion’s gene-seed itself was causing these transformations. Whilst the Legion had always had its fair share of minor mutations – such as the long canines seen amongst its veterans, and their unusually well-developed senses – due to the addition of the so-called Canis Helix to their gene-seed, continual exposure to the Warp’s corrupting influence seemingly triggered a far more drastic reaction within their bodies. The gene-seed of these warriors began to actively rewrite itself, continually breaking apart and rebuilding, causing their bodies to mutate uncontrollably. Over time, this genetic breakdown caused immense psychological and physical trauma to those who fell victim to it, shattering their sanity and eventually turning them into little more than rabid beasts, capable of only rudimentary coordination and speech. Those who were too far down that path were so uncontrollable that the Wolves did not so much direct them into battle as simply unleash them, using them as expendable shock troops or to sow terror and confusion amongst their enemies. Those who endured the strain did not fare much better, as both their own mental state and that of their fellows progressively degraded to the point that even the Legion’s infamous Discipline Corps had tremendous difficulty maintaining even the slightest semblance of order. This gradual deterioration made the Wolves’ combat doctrine increasingly difficult to predict on the battlefield. Only when they were headed by Segimer himself did they act with some of their former discipline, and even then, units often broke off from the main force to pursue their own ends. After the death of their Primarch, and the breaking of the Legion, this pattern of behaviour became even more pronounced. Unlike the other Traitor Legions, the remnants of the Wolves of Caliban largely went their own way, carving out their own path in the galaxy without much care or thought for their once-brothers. Each of the former Legion’s warbands gradually developed its own unique combat doctrine, based on the preferences of its leaders, its arsenal, and the alliances and enemies it made throughout the Long War. Some of these still cling to the old methods, operating much in the same way as they had under Segimer’s command, but most now wage war in ways befitting their new status as raiders and pirates. CULTURE AND BELIEFS The VIth Legion’s culture was an interesting blend of its Terran roots and Caliban’s heritage. Unlike many of his brothers, Segimer did not shy away from his Legion’s pre-unification legacy; on the contrary, he embraced it. Prior to taking to the field in the Great Crusade, the Primarch spent the majority of his time immersing himself in all facets of Imperial culture, learning its many intricacies from scholars and warriors alike. Once he had learned all he could, and thoroughly impressed by what he had seen, Segimer set forth to mould his Legion into a vessel for the Imperium’s ideals, implementing a range of Terran customs into its cultural, ideological and organisational make-up. One of these customs was the adoption of an Imperial name upon ascension into the Legion, to which additions were made throughout a Legionnaire’s career. This was no attempt to erase a warrior’s origins – rather, it was to remind them that they belonged to a greater whole, a greater unity than their former Calibanite tribes. Each Legionnaire took great pride in their name, and each part of it was chosen with considerable care. Most often, they were derived from ancient Terran literature, although some also sourced them from other cultures who had been sufficiently suffused by the Terran spirit. Another was the practice of Discipline Masters, who were elevated into instruments of the Primarch’s own iron will. The VIth Legion had always struggled to contain the ferocity of its members, and only the strict enforcement of order by the Discipline Masters had managed to bring some cohesion to the Legion. After its reunification with the Primarch, the Legion did not suffer this problem to the same extent as before, but Segimer considered it useful to keep the Discipline Masters in place to further temper his Legion’s choler. As symbols of their authority, they were allowed to bear the Raptor Imperialis on their breastplate, and often bore standards topped with the Imperial Aquila into battle. Caliban’s own heritage was not forgotten, however. In fact, Caliban remained as it had been before – an isolated, feral world ruled by cultured, yet undeniably savage tribespeople. At Segimer’s personal request, no attempts were made to integrate the Calibanites into the wider Imperium beyond what was necessary for the Great Crusade’s demands, and no Imperial outposts were raised on the world barring those of the Legion itself. This caused no small amount of controversy, particularly amongst those who adhered most strongly to the Imperial Truth, who saw the Calibanites’ belief systems as troublesome superstitions that warranted censure, and the Adeptus Mechanicus, who coveted the planet’s mineral wealth. Caliban’s inhabitants therefore remained an insular people, whose cultural practices were largely a mystery to the wider Imperium. The Wolves of Caliban themselves were no more forthcoming when it came to their homeworld’s culture, and even Segimer himself provided only scant details when pressed. What little was known painted the Calibanites as a people whose lives were dominated by nature in all its myriad forms. Caliban was a harsh, unforgiving world, and only by attuning oneself to its natural rhythm could one hope to survive its many challenges. To prosper in its forests and valleys, one had to understand and respect the laws of nature, and accept one’s own place in the greater cycle of life, death, and rebirth. The world around the Calibanites was thus as integral a part of their existence as their own flesh and blood, and they treated it accordingly. These simple teachings were passed on from generation to generation through rituals and festivals, which were usually led by members of the planet’s caste of druid-priests. These wandering hermits stood apart from the rest of Caliban’s often violent society; they were not beholden to any of the world’s many tribes, nor did they pay tribute to any of its warlords. Due to their duties as keepers of the faith and guardians of its mysteries, they were seen as veritable holy men, as sacred as nature itself. None amongst the notoriously bellicose Calibanites, not even the most foolish and brash, would dare make demands of them, let alone threaten them, for doing so would bring down the wrath of Caliban itself upon the transgressor. Of the rituals and festivals themselves no information was ever recorded, for outsiders were not allowed to witness them. It is clear, however, that many of these rituals and festivals were still performed or celebrated within the Legion, albeit presumably in a different form. Their main purpose appears to have been to forge bonds of unity between those who hailed from rival clans, and to keep the Calibanite spirit strong within the Legion. This secrecy remained unquestioned for most of the Great Crusade, although some amongst the Imperial administration, and even a few members of its fellow Legions, quietly voiced concerns about this throughout the period. Warmaster Teman apparently broached the subject with his brother Segimer once, but little seems to have come from it. Given that there were other Legions whose cultural idiosyncrasies sparked greater outrage – such as the blood-rituals of the XIVth -, the Wolves’ naturalistic spirituality, while bordering on a violation of the Imperial Truth, presumably did not warrant any further investigation by the Hand of the Emperor. In his eyes, these peculiar rituals and festivities could be tolerated, as long as they aided the Legion in maintaining order and cohesion. Since then, a lot has been revealed about the Wolves of Caliban, but details of its cultural practices still elude us. It has, however, been proven that the rituals and festivities in which the Legion indulged were, in fact, dedicated to the Primordial Annihilator, and that sacrifices – both of humans and of other creatures - were a common element in these practices. These gatherings appear to have been moments of catharsis for the Legion, in which the Legionnaires could drop the mask of loyalty and civility and embrace their primal, barbaric nature for a while, and bring praise to the Ruinous Powers as their Calibanite kin did. Unlike the other Traitor Legions, the Wolves appear to have always worshipped the Primordial Annihilator as a single, undivided entity. In fact, they seem to have actively shirked away from the cult-worship of specific aspects of the Ruinous Powers that was so prevalent amongst their brethren. In an intercepted communique between two of the Legion’s officers, one of them even claimed that the very concept of gods, or a Pantheon, was no more than a delusion, a simplistic interpretation of the true, unknowable shape of Chaos, fit only for the small-minded and weak. Curiously, the Wolves maintained much of the secrecy surrounding their culture even during the later stages of the War of Secession, when the treachery and corruption of the Traitor Primarchs had been laid bare. They continued to hide their activities and practices from view, sometimes even going as far as executing their own allies to ensure that their secrets did not spread. What drove them to such drastic measures, none can say, but given the depths to which the Legion sunk, perhaps it is better not to know. At the tail end of the War of Secession, Caliban was destroyed by the newly-formed Adeptus Mechanicus, and with its death much of its cultural legacy disappeared. Coupled with the fragmentation of the Legion following its decimation at the hands of the Emperor, this caused a gradual shift in the Wolves’ beliefs, and eventually, the Legion’s original culture was supplanted by new creeds, which appear to be more in line with those of the other Traitor Legions. At present, only a few warbands of the Beasts of Boudicca still cling to the veneration of Chaos Undivided, whilst most now worship a single deity of the Pantheon. NOTABLE MEMBERS Aulus Saturninus (Atrebas), Master of Discipline Legionnaire Atrebas, known as Aulus Saturninus to the Imperium, was the Master of Discipline of the VIth Legion during the Great Crusade and the War of Secession. A native of Caliban, Atrebas was one of the first inductees from the world after the Segimer’s reunification with the Imperium. Known as a stern, uncompromising and dependable figure, Atrebas would quickly draw the attention of the Discipline Corps, who recruited him into their ranks. Over the course of several decades, Atrebas became one of the Corps’ most prominent members, first rising to the rank of Consul-Opsequiari, and later, when the Terran Master of Discipline died in battle against the perfidious Aeldari, being unanimously elected as his successor. Under Atrebas’ leadership, the Discipline Corps gradually began to shift its attention from its role as peacekeepers amongst the Legion’s ranks to the forming and maintaining of relations with other branches of the Imperial war machine. To this end, members of the Discipline Corps were sent out across the galaxy to lend their experience to other Legions, or to take temporary command over isolated regiments of the Imperial Auxilia. This strategy was but one of many ways the VIth Legion was steadily expanding its network of allies and friends within the Imperial political and military machine, but it was perhaps one of the most insidious. For unbeknownst to the other Legions and Imperial High Command, Atrebas had entrusted the Calibanites under his command with a hidden, secondary objective: they were to sow the seeds of dissent amongst their charges and cousins, seek out those amongst the unenlightened who might accept the truth of Chaos, and weed out those whose loyalty to the Emperor might compromise the Legion’s plans. Only when the Traitor Primarchs revealed their true alliance during the War of Secession did the full extent of this hidden treachery become apparent. Both sides found many of their soldiers defecting to the traitors’ cause, their pledge of allegiance often accompanied by the immediate betrayal of their once-allies. Regiments were torn apart from the inside as traitors assassinated commanders and destroyed critical infrastructure, or turned from the Emperor’s light entirely, purging their ranks of any dissenters along the way. Even the loyalist Legions did not escape Atrebas’ machinations. Many of their Warrior Lodges, serf-populations and auxiliaries had been infiltrated by agents of the Traitors, who subtly caused discord and mayhem amongst the loyalists’ ranks by acts of sabotage and misinformation. Only when the Edict of Nikea was revoked and the Legions’ Librarians returned to active service, were many of these hidden traitors found out and eliminated, but by then, the damage had been done. Atrebas himself did not live long enough to see the results of his actions. He was caught in a surprise attack by a Secessionist Solar Auxilia Cohort early in the War of Secession, his vessel obliterated by the Cohort’s flagship during the ensuing void battle. Ironically, said Cohort would later go on to join the Traitors, its officers having been corrupted by one of Atrebas’ subordinates. NOTABLE WARBANDS The Blackbloods The warband known as the Blackbloods is currently the largest warband of the Beasts of Boudicca. Sworn to the service of the Plague God, Nurgle, these warriors seek to finish what their Primarch had started: the enlightenment of all of Mankind to the glory of Chaos. To that end, their rusted, plague-stricken vessels are always on the move, travelling from world to world, seeding cults wherever treachery is yet to blossom, and spreading vile diseases there where the Corpse-Emperor’s lackeys hold fast. In combat, the Blackbloods make use of a variety of tactics, as their Legion before them, although they have picked up several new tricks since devoting themselves to the God of Disease. Their Druids have learned the secrets of rot and decay, allowing them to inflict unholy horrors upon the flesh of their enemies, and to bring those unfortunate souls back to serve them as horrific Plague Zombies. Many of their warriors have also taken in the gifts of the Grandfather, becoming hosts to a myriad of diseases, their forms hideously disfigured by tumorous growths and grotesque mutations. Black blood oozes from open wounds and sores, rotting flesh and skin sloughs off brittle bones, and toxic vapours are pushed out of wheezing lungs as these so-called “Death-sworn” make their way across the battlefield. These Traitor Astartes are disgustingly resilient against all but the heaviest firepower, and only by the complete obliteration of their corpse can the lingering taint they exude be removed. The Blackbloods often uses packs of these warriors to dislodge fortified positions or entrenched enemies, for even if they do not manage to reach their target, their sickly aura and the horrid diseases they carry are often enough to erode their enemies’ willpower and strength, making them easier prey for the rest of the warband. The Blackbloods are led by an enigmatic Chaos Lord known as Warchief Ambior, of whom it is claimed that he is the very last of the Primarch’s original followers. While this is extremely unlikely, given that all of Segimer’s closest companions were recorded as having died during the ambush that destroyed the Legion, it cannot be denied that Ambior’s skills and knowledge rivals those of the Legion’s former elite. He has orchestrated hundreds of successful campaigns against the Imperium, ranging from simple raids to full-on invasions, and it is said that he has sired a thousand cults to the Dark Gods across the Segmenta, many of which have yet to reveal themselves. Despite the many encounters the Imperium has had with the Blackbloods, no-one has ever been able to lay eyes upon the Warchief himself. Even the Assassins of the Officio Assassinorum have never gotten Ambior in their sights, despite their numerous attempts to slay the Blackbloods’ leader. Some have therefore argued that Ambior does not in fact exist, that he is merely a misdirection, a ruse used by the Blackbloods to keep their enemies in the dark. But those who have faced the Blackbloods know, with absolute certainty, without any true shred of evidence that whatever Ambior truly is, he is very, very real. ++ PLACEHOLDER - WORK IN PROGRESS ++ General concept: - Evil Space Wolves who are more Celtic-inspired than Viking-inspired, and who worship the Primordial Annihilator in a Lovecraftian manner (think spreading evil cults, bringing forth unspeakable daemons from the aether, etc.) - Have slightly mutated into a mixture of Evil Space Wolves, Evil Luna Wolves/Sons of Horus, and Word Bearers Outline: Culture - Worship Chaos Undivided – to the Beasts of Boudicca, Chaos is a force of nature, unknowable and primordial. The idea of a Pantheon is a delusion, a construct for the limited human mind to make sense of what Chaos truly is. The Truth of Chaos must be spread to all of Mankind, and the Beasts of Boudicca will stop at nothing to make that happen. - Venerate nature in all its forms. To the Legion, nature is sacred, as it is the purest manifestation of the Primordial Annihilator. Mankind should not attempt to transcend its natural state through industry or technological development, as in doing so, Mankind moves away from its true self. Man should only take what nature provides - all else is stealing from the Great Mother. Relations with other branches of the Imperium - Poor relation with the Adeptus Mechanicus, due to the latter's veneration of the machine over the natural.

OI! Welkom, ya gitz! This thread is a placeholder for what is about to come. It'll be my first attemot if creating a Xenos faction and uploading it in here. Especially as I'm not an expert in any Xenos related stuff. Let's see where this will lead us to, eh? Besides, does someone know if there's a Ork = English translating tool or such? Would like to be as correct with quotes as possible. As of now, I don't have much to share except some snipptes of inspiration and ideas. So 'ere we go! 'ere we go! 'ERE WE GOOOOOHOOOO! Former original concept Voidjawz image address Who dey are: Bonesplitterz in space, zealous, hunters, “primitive/ savage”, Freeboters Nonetheless Freebooters, always looking for loot; love to raid and plunder; most precious bounty being bones / skulls of slain champions Mixture of Bonesplitters, Freebooters and Feral Orks Exact their toll from several, isolated world; amongst them even a Knight world, which thy enjoy even more for the big metal beasts Operating within the ImperiumFreebooter enclaves within Segmentum Solar Custodes of the Dread Host after Wazdakka Gutsmeks Waaagh! Possible Hive Fleets: Kronos, Hydra, Leviathan OR Switching between both halvesMore options ‘cause more Hive Fleets Pain in the ass for both regimes Some cat & mouse/ Moby Dick-ish possibilities / situation (Blakjaw vs Tyrant & Astartes/ Custodes vs Blakjaw) Enemies of the warband:Tyranids; especially a Hive Tyrand, specialy named organism, Blakjaw is using its blades of a former incarnation, his Moby Dick Either a SM chapter or a Knight Household; Voidjawz ravaged and raided their sector and homeworld, also tookCorpse of a champion/ leader Holy artifact Something other of importance with them Custodes; threat to the Segmentum Solar, they’re after a stolen artifact or because of a vision or preventive measurements to keep Solar safe Orkatan, the Speedboss; Immortan & Fury Road inspiration, Speed Waaaghboss, ruled over a system, invaded by Tyranids and “saved” by Blakjaw, joined his warband and went into submission; rival of Blakjaw, tries to undermine him and become the new boss Da good onez: Da Mekka BeastsOn their way of exacting their toll did their warp engine not work properly and they dropped into a yet unknown system full of in habituated worlds A small fleet stood against them for no reasons, Da Gods Revenga was just too big They raided world after world until they set foot on one covered in dense forests and ancient keeps – quite a lot of keeps to be honest Giant metal beasts emerge from the forests with blazing cannons and roaring blades, quite comparable with Gorkanauts or Morkanauts – depends on which you prefer Blakjaw and his Boyz were amazed and eager to test their skill on this new metal bread giants A massive battle occurs but eventually, said metal gargants fell to the cunning mind of Blakjaw – and some massive amount of Dakka and Wildboyz climbing up on their backs, cutting their way through its shell Turns out that those awesome beasts were in fact like a cheap parody of a Morkanaut (or Gorkanaut) with a ‘Umie inside Nonetheless Blakjaw and his Boyz enjoyed the fight and they continued to raid until they laid waste to every keep they found But (which every other regular Boss would most likely do, but not Blakjaw!) they did not destroy the keep nor did they kill the ‘Umies. They simply took some toll and left them. And here’s a thing: Blakjaw knows that they will rebuild their walls and repair their Mekka Beasts as he called them. He was hoping for that. In a couple of years, he would return and have some fun again. What’s an Ork without his hobbies, eh? Da fight for speedthe battle, which brought Orkatan into their ranks Nidz invade an Ork system ruled by Orkatan, he is outmatched and about to loose Blakjaw shows up, guided by his weirdboyz vision distracts the bioships and splits his forces, one half led by the Bad Dok boards the central bioship while Blakjaw is chasing after the Hive Tyrant, who leads the ground assault Blakjaw makes use of his favourite technique: Da beasts fangs Mobile units encircle the enemies force, herding them together as much as possible Nobz and other big ones face the herd head on, supported by dakka and choppas on their flanks Right behind them are the weirdboyzs and other leading officers follow, providing heavy fire support with their big customized guns and psyichic powers, the latter again growing in strength thanks to the rising amount of Waaagh!!! energy Deffdreads, Killakans and madboyz accompany Blakjar while striking deep into the herd, chopping off the leading organisms heads Blakjaw gets the head of the tyrand, Kronk lethally injures the ship (how he did that is left a secret, da Dok doesn’t like curiosity about his stuff), which leads to the crumbling of the splitterfleet, rest is easy prey defeated, Orkatans forces are absorbed into the Voidjawz or rather, his Boyz wanted to join the better Boss and he went with them Da golden Boyz or Da Chaos Weirdosearning the ire of the Custodes Dread Host or a chaos warband by ravaging a world/ base and stealing a precious artefact/ individual/ whatever wasn’t nailed down Custodes depends if they’re operating in Segmentum Solar alone; Dread Host, maybe Blakjaw killed a shieldcaptain and took his stuff Chaos Warband, possibly a Tzeentch dedicated one; uses plots and intrigues to achieve their goals and then did the Voidjawz came, ruining it all, bit of stereotypical “Orks are too dumb, lucky and clumsy to get harmed by the sophisticated plans of the warband Where da Boyz come from: First there was Blakjaw, who had a vision of his gods spirits caught in the bones of mighty beasts, legend has itHe heard the call and was exiled for beind weird, went into the wilds of a close by jungle world His cries and screams of his prey echoed through the night, those, who brought him to the surface believed him to have been killed by the jungle One day he returned at the head of a Feral ork tribe With his Boyz becoming more “cleva”, they were able to build a ship and chase after his former warband He killed the current boss and took over, from then on hunting the biggest legendary beast he could find; he succeeded and conquered the entire world and set out for the stars for bigger prey which was calling to him Those feral Orks became his elite, his bodyguard, denying any type of armor and such and are covered in countless runes and “empowered” bone armor From this day, more and more Orks joined him to be part of da great hunt and to feel da godz Shpeschialz: Warechanters as semi “priests”, praising the word of Blackjaw and his revelations, leading the hunt for the godly spirits; Morks and Gorks might is hidden within the most lethal and biggest monsters, tear them apart, eat their flesh and use their bones to be granted a fracture of godly power Orks can absorb those powers to empower themselves via Orkish runes attached to their armor and using bones and fetishes of their slain prey Captured slaves of some racesFemale Ordo Xenos Inquisitor, recently caught Male Aeldari (Ranger or Drukhari?) Personal slaves of the warbands leaders, those two of Blakjaw himself How da Boyz fight: make use of bullhorn tactics, like Bonesplitterzbikes and other fast moving units encirle and outflank enemies aka horns boyz heavz units like nobz or dreads deliver the killing blow aka teef boyz shootaz and other distance units as well as cc units fight the prey head on aka skull boyz leading or special units fight enemies head on among the teef boyz Weirdboyz channel Waaagh! Energy through runesBoyz become more savage Runes add another layer of protection against bullets, blades and claws, which defies anz logic but does not surprise Imperial agents as they are talkning about Oks afte all Strength to the runes wielder Prevents Weirdboyz from exploding Or..ga..ni...pah! da warband: Rather small fleet or maybe a Space Hulk; maybe fleet based only without a base of operation? at firstassimilates more and more smaller warbands, thus their fleet is growing, biggest joining warband was that of Orkatan Those feral Orks, who choose him as a new boss and followed him from day one, became his elite, his bodyguard; denying any type of armor and such and are covered in countless runes and “empowered” bone armor Flagship: Da Gods RevengaBlakjaws second ship, Space Hulk of small – medium size Fast & maneuverable, consists of several ships and one lost Ork Rokk of an unknown warband/ tribe In habituated by Genestealers (live and hide in the shadows, nearly extinct, target of randomly happening leisure/ hunts of Blakjaw and his Nobz, human and other races slaves, mutants and a feral tribe of Orks frome Blakjaws “home” One part of the ship was once a Beakie ship with large ship to ship claws (Ursus Claws), one of Blakjaws favourite tools, “Get em closer Boyz, I wanna see der fear in der eyes” many bone decorations and such in addition to the regular Ork art Many hangar bays, large engineer bays “Mosh pit”, giant pit for events like pit fights, etc.; also used as gathering place before a fight in order to get “hyped” Large halls for loot an’ stuff (tributes, loot, hunting trophies) Blakjaws room is a former imperial bridge, being modified to be “orkier and betta” Orruk Battletome notes aka organizational stuffBunch of weirdboyz/ Madboyz gathering around Blakjaw Iconography: double-headed shark/ Tyranidskull rune/ shark jaw? Waaagh! Energy defying all logic by standing against bullets and blades, vent for Weirdboy energies Waaagh! Enhanced weapons; Choppas or bullets, infuse their victims with feral energies, which lead into a frenzy / loose all self-control, lost in the energies (source: Bonegrinz) Organisation (based upon Bonesplitterz, name not fixed yet)Kop RukksLeaders, elites, Weirdboys, Madboys (Nobz and Meganobz, Battlewagon?) Snaga RukksTrukks, Bikes & Koptas, Trikes, Kommandos, Stormboys Kunnin‘ RukksLootas, Tankbustas, Flash Gitz Brutal RukksBoyz, Burna Boyz Teef RukksDreads, Killakans, Gorka-/Morkanauts Da Kultur: favourite prey: Tyranids, bigger, deadlier than anything else they’ve encountered, see the hunt of Tyranids as key of their purpose in order to gain as much of Morks or Gorks blessed powers as possibleto them, the Tyranids are sent by their deities as a challenge to prove their worth to them or as a gift to have fun with as there are more and more of the Nidz coming, there is a point to that idea of the twin gods wanting every Ork to follow Blakjaws path Old feud between Blakjaw and the Hyvemind (Moby Dick-ish) Orkish runes like cuneiform, mixed with the simple iconography of Bonesplitterz runesLive aboard the Da Gods Revenga“Regular” Ork community, Runtherds, using squigs for different purposes like hair, etc. Mosh Pit = social important point, duels, eventz (like ‘eavy metal Konzertz) Sometimes Blakjaw hosts big hunts or fightsGenestealer/ captured beasts vs. volunteers Mob vs. mob as some sort of training/ competition Rokkmusik, ‘eavy metal, squigpipes, playin’ with da meks toyslittle hobby within the higher echelons of the warband, some Nobz and bosses collect the mini toyz of Mek Zappa and build entire armies only to throw them at each other during competition games called “Da Mini Gamez” Wealthy bosses own “advisorz”, personal slaves Fungus plantation in own ship (maybe a “cleaned” Nurgle ship as it already had the perfect conditions to grow fungus) Shpeschial slaves = important for maintaining along with Gretchins and Grots Da big ones: Blakjaw himself:Warlord of the Voidjawz Black tattooed jaw, massive Ork, no bionics Heavily scarred, wearing bones and few metal armor to protect himself (only one shoulder pad) Several pistols sheaved in belts across his massive chest like Blackbeard Two huge blades/ swords from a slain Hive Tyrant (his big prey out there), bone blades, sharp enough to cut ceramite Tattooed arms & chest Heavy boots with spikes; bone necklace made of ‘Nid teeth Mixture of Grom, Killrogg and Azog the Despoiler Ambitious, somewhat prophetic, visions of the Great Hung Has his own legend of origin amongst his boyz and other warbands, mysterious, cunning, intelligent, more favoring Mork than Gork Patient, lethal in close combat, dominant, “eloquent” for an Ork Keeps captives as personal slaves to learn from them (Inquisitor & Aeldari); advising role Rumored to be a former Snakebite, exiled, came back at the head of a large feral OrkWaaagh!, killed his former Boss and became the new one Main inspirations: Azog the Despoiler (Hobbit), Grom Hellscream & Kilrogg Deadeye (Warcraft) Other characters:Mek Zapperloves to work with Mad Dok Kronk on Deffdeads and such has a fable for adding bones and such to carz as decoration makes small bone-metal ish figures (some might call them toys but don’t ever say that close to Mek Zapper!) and replays encounters and fights of the warband (on a big table on which he builds miniature cities or environments – depending on his mood), owning one of those displays the favour of the Mek, meaning one gets the best gear Mad Dok Kronkcalled the Bugdok, loves to dissect Tyranids and learn more about their biology, etc. some rumours him to mix shpeschial drinks made from Nids which make boyz run amok Inquisitor Valya Berikssonborn on Midgardia, still mourns the loss of their homeworld Ordo Xenos, experienced with Aeldari and Necron conflict, Orks are a complete new experience to her captured during a raid on a world, her companions were killed or where they? She did not see the leader of her Deathwatch team succumb to the Orks Recently captured, held captive as personal slave, observant, convinced that she’ll be able to escape or die heroically, female Altherias “Pointy”Another captive and slave Waiting patiently for his chance to strike at his master and claim his revenge Member of Craftworld Umare, which was nearly annihilated by the Voidjawz and Tyranids New ally of the Inquisitor, male Da Championanother captive, Valya only heard of him as she never participates the big mosh pit fights rumoured to be recently risen within the pits as the new champion unbeaten, Boyz love him for his fights, savage, wild, Orky beats Orkz , Nidz and whatever they throw at him common threat between Boyz, “I will throw ya to da champion if ya do not stop” OrkatanFormer Waaaghboss of his own Speedwaaagh! His domain was invaded by Tyranids; Orkatan fought fiercely but was driven back Blakjaw appeared and “saved the day” by hurling himself and his Boyz against the Tyranids, slew their leading organisms and shattered the Hivemind control Forced into service by Blakjaw or die by his hand The biggest thing he’s missing: Boyz chanting his name for a fight Main inspiration: Immotan (Fury Road)

The Pallid Procession The Grave and the Cradle Origins[/skullheaderhalf] Something you learn after enough time seeding Grandfathers garden...not every infection births disease. Anything can become an infection and bear worthy fruits. It still begins small, but feeds on its environment, grows, spreads, until at last it consumes its host. Not their body, but their mind and soul. Every emotion, like an open wound, is fertile ground for infection as potent as any disease. Fear. Pride. Hatred. Failure. Calvera, Warden of the Damned Failure. Like a hissing insect that appears without fail to disturb moments of peace. That finds its way into the slightest chink in the armor and bites and stings, getting further in the more one reaches for it. That, in the very moment when it seems to have finally died, begins its fevered attack once more. To hear the living among The Procession tell it, the Chaos scourge of the Halo Stars owes its existence to the failure of one man: Johin Mahlur. The chosen Champion of the Asperos Astra, Mahlur had been given the chance to earn his Chapter glory, and had brought them only shame, which shame had led them to risk everything and cost them dearly. As the Chapter took its fateful journey through the treacherous pass leading into the Halo Stars, it was buffeted and shaken by the turbulence of the warp. After more than a month withstanding the storm, near the heart of the fleet, the strike cruiser Reilios, home of the 6th company, began to list out of formation. Within its hull, disarray. The ships Gellar Field was failing and the Immaterium was claiming it. Surfaces of the decks and bulkheads warped and bubbled, crumbled and cracked, changing material in an eyeblink. Bodies were transfigured and twisted. Entities of the Empyrean stalked the corridors. Amid the screams, coughs, and sounds of battle against apparating demonic entities, there were also murmurs of pledged loyalty, and while most stood and fought, there were some that bent the knee. The rest of the fleet continued receiving horrific transmission from the Reilios for hours, until at last it was pulled from its course and violently ejected from the warp stream, pulling a smaller vessel from the Explorators fleet with it, both presumed destroyed. But they survived. The two ships emerged from the Warp together, far from their destination, but mostly intact. Functional, but not unmarked. Both ships bore what appeared to be the accumulated wear and corrosion of centuries in the void without maintenance. The emblems and icons of the Chapter and the Imperium that had adorned the cruiser had crumbled or burned away, replaced instead with symbols of a different allegiance; the trio of circles that represent the Plague Lord, Nurgle. Every living soul aboard both vessels had been changed; a price paid for survival, and for Johin Mahlurs failure. Homeworld[/skullheaderhalf] Captains Quarters aboard the Pursuer Sickly green light pulsed above the unpowered holoprojector. A lone figure kneels before it, head bowed, the vile emblems on his armor dancing with their own shadows in the ghastly glow. This work, hell-fired worthy though it is, would go faster if you gave us more, the figure pleads in a deep rasp. The green rent in reality vibrated with the slow, layered, near-whisper that answered Is your power over death insufficient, Calvera? Or your will so weak? Would the Plaguefather be better served by another Champion? Not power, master. Knowledge. Assurance that this artifact exists! That our toils have meaning. The Materium hides secrets from us as the Immaterium obscures them from you. Had I more...insight...into the objects location, you would have it. Continue your searches. Have patience. Time is on our side. And Calvera? If you lay such doubt upon me again, there will be consequences. Spat out of the Warp under no power of their own, the castoff survivors from the fleet found themselves at the edge of a barren star system somewhere deep among the Halo Stars. Before them were a handful of worlds that were little more than pitted rocks, orbiting a baleful and turbulent star. At first the newly converted children of decay thought that they were meant for these stricken worlds, but as they approached, they found something else. Orbiting the entire star, like a single wisp of gray hair clinging tenuously to a pale head, was an unbroken chain of ships. Wreckage, both ancient and modern, pursuing a silent, ceaseless convoy around the star. From the whisper of Nurgles emissaries they learned its name: The Processional of the Damned. The numberless derelict vessels carried all that the Plaguefathers disciples would need to fulfill his will. From it they would take their name, and their mission. Composed of everything from scout vessels and pleasure yachts all the way up to battleships and space hulks, there are more weapons, artifacts, and secrets in the Processional than on some of the oldest hives of the Imperium. The orbiting vessels come from every age and beyond, and from civilizations human and xenos alike. There is far more hidden among these ships than the emerging warband can hope to uncover on its own. The Reilios and the Demittor, the Mechanicus forge-barque that had succumbed with them, moved to orbit alongside the Processional, only to see the ships surrounding them to part of their own accord, leaving room for both heretic vessels. Entering orbit, the heretics began their explorations. To further reflect the changes to themselves and their ship, the heretic Astartes renamed their corrupted Strike Cruiser Pursuer of the End. Over the course of years and decades that followed, the corrupted survivors explored and cannibalized the surrounding ships, while the tainted Mechanicus dragged multiple vessels together to build a dark, floating forge. The Astartes and their subjects refitted and repaired a handful of other ships, and began to launch scouting missions into the dark corners of the Halo Stars and towards the Asperos Astras original destination. When at last they found the Manifest Frontier, the loyalists newfound home, they set about watching them, dispatching agents into their midst to observe, and planting new seeds of corruption in the hearts of their wards. A handful of the choicest recruits were spirited away back to the Processional, where they joined the ceaseless salvage and restoration effort on the various wrecks. Others are outfitted with scout ships and sent into the darkest corners of the Frontier, pursuing secret objectives. The Processional now has pockets of activity throughout its orbit, some ships having been returned to full functionality to serve the heretics' naval and transport needs, while others have little more than flickering engines and lights full of whispers, some new and some ancient. The bulk of the work done in the Processional is carried out by undead, whose living masters push them ever harder to prepare the ships for their destiny. Still less than a fraction of its potential has been uncovered. The secrets and power it contains are of extreme importance to certain members of the Immaterium. And what is important to them is important to the Pallid Procession. Recruitment[/skullheaderhalf] There are few living Astartes in the Procession compared to many warbands, most of these being the original members of the 6th Company that made pacts with the Plaguefather in exchange for their lives and their power. Due to Nurgles gifts, none of these traitors has yet tasted death. The rest of the 6th company, however, was not lost...or more accurately, not wasted. With the powers of the Empyrean, the traitors raised the dead of the 6th, binding them to their cruel will. These undead Astartes are now the Processions deadliest shock troopers, and though some have been destroyed, their reanimated nature makes them extremely difficult to destroy, and many of them continue to serve. The bulk of the warband is composed of the surviving crew from the Pursuer and the Demittor, who command zealots and cultists that have been spirited away from the colony worlds of the Manifest Frontier. Supplementing their lack of numbers are great hordes of undead, raised by means of pestilent sorcery. While the Procession exercises its powers quite liberally to cull and harass the colonists, it is also very cautious in its approach to tempting away other Marines of the Asperos Astra. It is rarely worth the risk to commit substantial forces against the Chapters established defenses, but probing strikes against convoys and isolated outposts can sometimes yield new recruits. With great care, the Procession has slowly and subtly grown, and they continue their implacable advance with all the inevitability Nurgles children are known for. Advancement among the Astartes within the Procession is at the sole discretion of the Black Warden, Calvera, and hinges on much the same kinds of deeds expected of the mundane mortals in their service: providing information. As the Procession scours the Manifest Frontier from its heaviest fortifications to its darkest unexplored corners in search of the hidden power they desire, the favor of their master is reserved for those who provide the most valuable intelligence. Combat Doctrine[/skullheaderhalf] The Fall of Fort Belknod The flames created disturbing echoes in the halls of the fortress, seeming to give voices to the contorting shadows cast on the walls. Striding through the flames came a tall figure clad in eroded black ceramite, approaching a heavy door that had been smashed from its frame. Another, smaller figure wearing leathers stood by the open portal, and nodded to the armored giant, taking a step forward at the approach. The charts? Growled the armored one, stopping at the door. Inside, my Auger. Untouched, as ordered. Tell the troops. No survivors. The short one nodded, and ran, picking their way through flames. After a pause, the armored one entered the open room. It was small; room for less than a dozen people. The walls were lined with shelves, but directly across from the ruined door was a skull-topped shrine, inside of which was a tall, ornate scroll case. As the giant reached out, his helmet appeared to crack, disintegrate and at last dissolve into dust, drifting away from his head. Wide, milky eyes stared from a gaunt, pale face. A ceramite fist plucked the case from the shrine, lifting it to eye level, and the heretics thin lips curled into a humorless smile. Warfare as conducted by the Procession is a strange contradiction, a matter of subtlety executed by brute force, where a success will leave the enemy wondering why they came under attack at all. Lacking the numbers of elite (or even particularly coordinated) troops found among the Asperos Astra and the colonist militias, the warband compensates using waves of undead chaff to draw enemy attention and absorb fire. These hordes are composed of both simple reanimated dead, as well as more robust zombies created with an iteration of the Walking Pox known in the Frontier as the Withering Pox. The walkers created by the Withering Pox often appear shriveled and emaciated, rather than the typical swollen and pustule ridden form of pox walkers, but are still possessed of a frightening density that makes them deceptively hardy. While the pox walkers are usually gathered into their own hordes, it is not unusual for some to be mixed among the simpler plague zombies, where they are difficult to pick out until they are already upon the foe and their unexpected strength and ferocity is too late to stop. With the tide of undead at the front, the Processions firepower, borne primarily by the undead members of the 6th, can then be brought to bear with minimal interference. Their focused fire is used to target perceived weak points in their targets defences, creating greater opportunity for the hordes to break through and overwhelm defenders. More entrenched enemies are ideally faced with too many shambling corpses to be able to contribute meaningfully to the battle. Using the frontal assault as a distraction, the sorcerer leading the force will take advantage of the chaos sown by the pressing hordes to slip through a vulnerability in the enemy defence, whether discovered or pre-prepared, to accomplish the Processions main objective, or to fall upon an unsuspecting enemy flank with psychic fury, taking them off balance and leaving them all the more exposed. The Procession are especially dangerous in the void, where they take full advantage of the endless supply of gutted and abandoned vessels bestowed on them by their master. Fireships and ramming leave wide openings for boarding, both in direct assaults with their massed hordes and by stealthy insertions of sorcerers and their champions. To date, only moderately sized vessels, no larger than the Pursuer have seen use in actions against their enemies. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Organization Most operations attributed to the Procession are carried out by short-lived cults, whose leadership have very little communication with the true body of the warband. Their value is generally measured simply by the corpses they supply, but occasionally they provide information useful to the warbands larger aims. Delivering such information is usually the only means by which such zealots can hope to rise into the true ranks of the Procession, or earn any reward beyond knowing their zombified corpse will one day be a weapon for the warband. The humans with real standing in the Procession are more often than not spared from brutal combat service; they are far more valuable to the warband as information gatherers and fomenters of dissent. These select and faithful few operate primarily as solitary agents, searching the Frontier for whispers of the power the Procession seeks, while laying the foundation for new cults. Above most humans, but somewhat distinct from the structure of the Procession are the acolytes and magi of the Demittor, who have combined the gifts and knowledge of their patron with their existing technological prowess in order to keep the Procession equipped with arms and ammunition. As is typical of their kind, most of them would rather spend their time uncovering the secrets and archaeotech in the treasure trove that is the Processional, but they can be relied upon to outfit the warband according to its needs, and occasionally even take to the battlefield. Of the heretic astartes themselves, they are loosely divided into thirteen strike teams, each led by one of the original traitors from the Pursuer. These bands organize themselves largely as they see fit, and carry out the missions specifically given them in furtherance of the Processions goals. Their leaders, referred to as Augers by their lessers, each have varying degrees of influence over the powers of the Warp, due mostly to pacts struck during the fall of the Reilios. The more proactive among them have begun to approach the power of true sorcerers, but all have potent gifts they may bring to bear. Commanding the warbands operations on the material plane is the grim figure known as Calvera, the Black Warden. It is unknown what his exact involvement was in the fall of the 6th Company, but he was the most senior among those who turned, to say nothing of his authority as a Warden of Souls. What had once been an indomitable will as a Warden of the Asperos Astra has now turned toward the dark, entropic designs of the Plaguefather. Under his direction the Procession has harried both the Asperos and the Nonaveridis across the length and breadth of the Manifest Frontier, striking almost without consequence at places thought impervious to assault. Calvera himself takes counsel from none, save the greater daemon that relays the Plaguefathers wishes. Only a handful of the original heretics are privy to this entitys nature, but it is known to be the creator of the Withering Pox. To those of the material plane, the being is named The Graywhisper, and is one of the unifying subjects of worship among the various plague cults birthed by the Procession. And then, somewhere at the edge of the Processions structure is the enigmatic figure known most commonly among them Pallid Preacher. Even within the warband, no one can confidently claim understanding of this creatures nature. He often appears at settlements a few days, or sometimes mere hours before the arrival of warband hordes, raving abstractly to the inhabitants about the merits of death and the waiting afterlife. On more than one occasion the preachers unsettling sermons have been answered with bullets. While in some places he escapes, in others he, or at least something like him, has been reported killed. Still he appears on the frontlines, heedless of any number of deaths. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Beliefs Bridge of the Pursuer And this pleases the Graywhisper? The heretic marine, somehow both hulking and dessicated, leaned forward, laying a weathered metal chest at the foot of the throne. You need to learn the difference between progress, and success, Arikoraa, Calvera growled from beneath his hood, Progress is a lie, a trick, a false sense of security. It forestalls failure, but it is not success. In progress, there is nothing to be pleased. That weak thinking is why the Asperos settled for this...wasteland. When we succeed...when the Processional takes to the stars, the stain of the Asperos has been scoured, and we ride on the Imperium itself...then, the Graywhisper will be pleased. The Procession doesnt display the joviality found among some followers of Nurgle, though they do exhibit a grim pleasure in their work. The traitors from the Asperos Astra are a somber group, clad in the corrupted remains of their armor. Uncharacteristic for plague marines, the heretics of the Procession are gaunt, emaciated and parched rather than bloated and gangrenous. Even their ceramite appears more like a hardened, flaked husk than intentionally crafted armor. Instead of the cloying mist of disease that clings to most plague marines, the astartes of the Procession, both living and undead, are followed by dark, dry, clouds of noxious dust that bear the Withering Pox and other deadly pathogens. Though they delight in the suffering of the Frontiers colonists and any killing and torturing they can exact on the Asperos, the Procession are generally a callous and rigid warband, with a single-mindedness toward their objectives and very little tolerance for failure of any kind. They are committed to the mission given them, which to them will bring vindication against the weak and deferential Asperos Astra, and the Imperium that rejected their strength and denied their glory. Through their cults and, to a lesser degree the mad ministrations of the Preacher, the warband spreads its belief in death as the greatest gift, a liberation from the worry and pain of life. An afterlife awaits the worthy, a second life, which in reality is no more than being revived by one of the zombie plagues to further spread the word. Among the cults of the Procession, there is no greater aspiration, and the sorcerers within the warband are honest in delivering this gift to their disciples upon death. Nurgles purpose for the Procession among the Halo Stars is known only to the heretic Astartes and a select few of their most devoted followers. Under the daemons guidance, they are convinced that somewhere in the Frontier is an artifact capable of animating the entire Processional of the Damned. If found, it would create a fleet the likes of which the Imperium has seldom seen. One which could visit death and devastation upon an entire Segmentum. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Gene-seed They share the lineage of the Asperos, but their gene-seed is naturally highly corrupted. Very little of that gene-seed is viable for implantation. Only five successful implantations have occurred since the Processions birth, but each of these new plague marines has been increasingly more powerful than the last. Most of the failed implantations have at least resulted in mutants useful enough to be unleashed as disposable shock troops. [skullheaderhalf=333333]War Cry Call: Every step closer! Answer: Closer to the grave!

Warband Datafile: Fangs of the Father "Now where is your so-called 'God-Emperor'? Nothing more than a corpse upon His throne! Does he hear your prayers? Does he even care for you? For his silence speaks loud and clear to us!" — Salvaged Vox transmission from before the Massacre of Antilles V Primary Data War Cry"We have come for you!"/"Ave Dominus Nox!" (general, specific subsets have their own war cry) FoundingFirst Founding Legio NumeralVIIIPrimarchKonrad Curze (Night Haunter) Chaos LordThe 'Council of Fangs' (de jure)/ Sanad Crutian (de facto) HomeworldNostramo [DESTROYED] (Formerly) / Vangrathor (current base of operations) AllegianceExcommunicate Traitoris Scheme and Symbol INTRODUCTION The origins of the Night Lords warband that would become known as the Fangs of the Father originated in the early days of the Great Crusade, after the reunification of Primarch and Legion. The Night Lords 38th, known as the "Shepherds of Fire" to the VIIIth and the 76th Armour Company, known as the "Unyielding Judges", would often be on campaigns together, working in close formation. These two companies, or rather, the remnants of them, would go to form the Fangs of the Father. The bloody birth of the Fangs of the Father in the Horus Heresy, known as the Great War to the VIIIth, was the grueling campaign that was the Thramas Crusade. It was here that the 38th and 76th would be decimated by the Dark Angels, and during the Thramas Crusade these two companies would forge an unbreakable link between the two. HISTORY The origins of the Fangs of the Father lie in the Thramas Crusade. During the fierce fighting, the Night Lords sustained heavy losses, some companies being wiped out, or all but wiped out. The 38th and 76th companies suffered catastrophic loss of Astartes personnel during this sub-war in the Heresy. It was here that command of these two companies was taken by Jago Terask, and it was he who gave the Fangs of the Father their name: 'The Shepherds of Fire and Unyielding Judges are no more. We have survived, battered and bloody, but unbroken. We will be our Father's fangs, poised to tear out the throat of his enemies.' The Fangs continued their fierce fighting against the Dark Angels Legion during the Thramas Crusade, harrying their fleets and forces in fierce hit and run fights. It was during these battles that Terask consolidated what would become the 'Council of Fangs', the coalition of commanders and officers who would lead the Fangs of the Father to the present day. The first action of the Fangs of the Father after the Heresy was an assault on Vigrid's Fall, an Agri and Armoury World in the Segmentum Pacificus. It was here that the Fangs were intending on restocking their supplies, as well as obtaining new slaves. Of course, such a simple action was to be undone by many of the Night Lords becoming distracted by enjoying the terror and murder they could sow on a world such as this. What was to be a quick action took days, and in doing so, the Fangs unintentionally allowed themselves to be ambushed by a passing by fleet of Astartes. The ships bore familiar heraldry to the Night Lords, but in new colours. Ships bearing Astartes who were once of the I Legion, now called the Angels of Penance. The battle began quickly, the tactics favoured by the Stormwing of the Dark Angels evident in the new Chapter. Within hours, hundreds of Astartes of both midnight blue and ochre lay dead. As the world burned, two Astartes met on the fields. The Cataphractii-armour clad Ishmael, Grand Master of the Angels of Penance against the Mark IV 'Maximus'-armoured Jago Terask. Only one thing was said before the two battled, spoken by Terask. "We never finished that duel on Vandaris now did we? Shall we make up for lost time?" Lightning Claws clashed against Calibanite Warblade, the fighting was fierce between the two, as an old rivalry flared. Their weapons met in a mighty clash, war cries sounded. Their death-hungry weapons whip, thrust, cut and slash, trying to get an opening. Those two lords of war were equal strong, their battle frantic. Only when Ishmael opened himself up with a decapitating swing was Terask able to make a lethal strike: Ten talons sunk deep into the Cataphractii-clad Astartes, the blades piercing into his torso and energized blades searing the organs, two of Terask's claws destroying Ishmael's hearts. Before Terask can pull away however, the Grand Master followed up his strike. Ishmael's blade cut burning sharp, it's power field allowing it to cut through armour, flesh and bone. Blood gushes from the wound as Terask's chiropteran helmet-clad head is freed from his body, falling to the ground. In six hours, two-hundred Angels of Penance and nearly five-hundred Fangs of the Father died, including both Ishmael and Jago Terask. The Battle of Vigrid's Fall would go on to be known as "The Mistake" amongst the Fangs of the Father, as they made a fatal error in allowing the world to call for help. The Council of Fangs The so-called 'Council of Fangs' is the name for the grouping of the senior officers amongst the Fangs of the Father, first set in place by Jago Terask. It was this council, a coalition of leaders, that the Fangs are able to maintain a surprising amount of order amongst the Night Lords in the warband. The leader of the warband, the 'Lord of Fangs', is determined by popular vote amongst the council members. However, since Terask's death, no vote has been made, nor has one been called for. Whether this is because the loss of Terask was such that the Fangs feel they will never have a leader like him, or if it is simply because Terask's second-in-command was such a worthy successor that a vote was unneeded is unknown. What is known is that even while the Lord of Fangs' seat remains unfilled on the Council, the group keeps control of the Astartes of the warband. RECRUITMENT Like all Night Lords, the Fangs of the Father harvest new recruits from wherever, and whenever they can. While their base of operations Vangrathor provides them with a stable, steady stream of possible recruits, they can and do pick recruits during raids. Normally, these recruits are the most promising (or violent) of young males seen during raids. When the goal is replenishment, or worse, expansion, the Fangs make care to not kill all of the males on a planet. Merely the majority. When the Fangs of the Father decide to replenish their numbers, they send out several vessels on a "Red Harvest", which is their term for a mass recruitment. Said recruitment often target penal colonies or hive worlds, with the Fangs first cutting off Astropathic messages so their targets cannot call for help. It is then that the Fangs then broadcast a message: They have come seeking new blood, and only the finest killers will do. Using drop pods, the Fangs send out kill-teams, with the different Claws wreaking mayhem and chaos on the stricken planet. When the citizens begin tearing at each other's throats, this is when the Fangs begin their bloody recruitment, seeking those that kill the most, the ones who remain unseen by mortal eyes when doing their murder, or as simply the ones who manage to not void their bowels upon seeing the Night Lords. The Fangs take great care with maintaining their ability to create new Astartes, having managed to keep enough Apothecaries from their companies so that they can continue to produce new battle brothers. One of the first things done after the Fangs retreated to the Knight World of Vangrathor was to set up a bunker on the smaller of Vangrathor's two moons, this would become their Apothecarion. It is here where the Apothecaries do a majority of their bloody work, and here that the aspirants become Astartes, or die in the process. The reason Fangs of the Father manage to keep their numbers to such a high number is a simple one, related to the meticulous nature of their Apothecaries: When the Progenoid Glands in an Astartes' body mature, the ones that can be safely removed are. It is through this that the warband keeps a surprisingly large amount of Battle Brothers, and how they've managed to grow in size over the millennia, whereas other warbands shrink due to attrition. ARMOURY Due to the Fangs being made up of the remnants of two companies, one being an armour company, they enjoy a unique situation amongst Night Lords warbands: They are incredibly well-equipped by any standard. This is due to the 78th suffering worse losses of manpower than their machinery, with most of their vehicles that were lost in the Thramas Crusade being replaced, as the habit of both companies to loot and claim captured vehicles for their own allowed the Fangs to replenish their motorpool. Able to field a full division of armour, the Fangs who are from the 78th take a great glee in being able to use their tanks to run down their enemies who are not worth wasting valuable ammunition on. Due to their well-stocked armoury, as well as numerous techmarines and tech-priests within their ships, the Fangs have even been seen deploying vehicles that are considered extremely rare in the present day, such as Fellblades, Falchions, Spartans and Cerberus Tank Destroyers. NOTABLE GROUPS The Deathbringers - A formation made up of some of the Breachers of the 38th and the destroyers of both companies, the Deathbringers are a formation within the Fangs of the Father made up of those Night Lords who have an even darker mien than most Night Lords, and a sinister reputation within their Legion. For these marines used the worst weapons of war amongst the Legio Astartes within the Night Lords: Rad, Chemical and Biological weapons, those considered 'too cruel' by the Imperium. The Deathbringers now are changed, twisted some of their brothers might say, by the God of Plagues, Nurgle. For in these Marines, the Plague God saw useful servants. Clad in their Mark III and Terminator armour, these Night Lords have become Plague Marines of a particularly cruel bent, delighting in the agony and pain they cause with the plagued weapons they bear. Normally, marines such marked would be cast out or killed by the Night Lords, the Deathbringers are instead used as a vanguard force in boarding actions and in areas where fighting is heaviest; they will either be destroyed, or survive to fight another day. Battle Cry: "Rot and Ruin!" The Slaughterborn - Former members of the Despoiler and Assault squads of the Shepherds of Fire and Unyielding Judges, the Slaughterborn are a subset within the Fangs of the Father in whom the murderous nature of the VIIIth comes to the fore. Psychopathic butchers far beyond even what the Night Lords consider insane, the Slaughterborn are blood-frenzied butchers dedicated to Khorne. Unusually, the Khornate corruption of these Astartes shows itself in a much different way than the norm: the Slaughterborn's emotions seem to be completely gone aside from when in battle, or preparing for battle. Often fighting in conjunction with the Deathbringers, the Slaughterborn are used a hammer strike, swift and unsubtle. Lead by the choleric and bellicose Garras Sarimund, the Slaughterborn are blood-drenched killers, in whom the most horrifying Zone Mortalis actions are taken. Battle Cry: "We are the Night Haunter's Fangs and Claws!" (often shortened just to "Fangs and Claws!" during battle) NOTABLE FANGS OF THE FATHER Andras Karstes 'the Blightmancer' - A sorcerer of the Fangs of the Father, marked by Nurgle and a member of the Deathbringers. Karstes was always known for his quick wit and cruel sense of humour, which has only become more pronounced in the millennia since the Great War. Garras Sarimund - A former Centurion-Warmonger of the VIIIth Legion, Garras Sarimund was always quick to anger and a known butcher amongst the Night Lords. In the centuries since the Horus Heresy, his butchery and slaughter has only become more pronounced. Clad in his customized terminator plate and wielding his wickedly cruel and massive Nostraman Chainglaive, Sarimund charges headfirst into battle, using his own bulk as a battering ram. Jago Terask (Deceased) - A Praetor of the Night Lords Legion, and the original commander of the Fangs of the Father. Wore heavily modified Mark IV armour, and bore a unique set of Lightning Claws that were referred to as the Talons of Night. Much like his gene-sire, he was plagued by visions, specifically those of his death. 'Fire, sword and claws, ochre armour' was what he would claim he foresaw. A skilled duelist, he would eventually meet an old rival and nemesis, Ishmael, Chapter Master of the 5th Chapter, 1st Host of Dark Angels, now Grand Master of the Angels of Penance. The First Lord of the Fangs of the Father would meet his match on Vigrid's Fall. Sanad Crutian - The direct subordinate of Jago Terask, Sanad Crutian has become the Lord of the Fangs of the Father, if not by decree than by act. It was Sanad who rallied the Fangs after Terask's death on Vigrid's Fall, and lead the recovery effort of the bodies of the slain before their retreat. Since the Battle of Vigrid's Fall, Sanad has maintained control of the Fangs much in the way Terask did: By combining fear and loyalty into a solid whole. Even before the Heresy, it was said (sometimes mockingly, sometimes respectfully) that Sanad Crutian's personality was one that would be more fitting in a Legionnaire of the VIIth or XIIIth; bold, brave and loyal to his comrades. Despite Crutian's better personality traits, his loyalty to his brothers and gene-sire is what would lead him down the path of damnation. However, it was these personality traits that allowed him to become the de facto leader of the Fangs of the Father, as he could inspire the exact same loyalty and zeal in his brother Night Lords as Terask could. Targos Kastax 'the Breaker' - A former Centurion-Warmonger of the Night Lords 38th company. Bellicose and bold, Kastax has managed to survive against immense odds time and again, to the point where other members of the warband believe he must have made some kind of pact with a Warp entity. In truth, despite his near suicidal tendencies, Kastax's survival is due to his skill with his thunder hammer, Noctis, and his combi-melta, as well as his ability to predict his opponent's movements before they happen. Tarsus Vorgan 'the Undying' - Formerly a Siege Breaker Centurion of the Unyielding Judges, Vorgan became infected with one of Nurgle's numerous plagues, along with his underlings. Reforged as a swollen Chaos Lord of Nurgle, he leads the Deathbringers from the front, using the Teleportarium within his vessel, the Child of Sorrow, to allow him and his retinue of blighted terminators easy access to the thickest of fighting, or key locations in battle. NOTABLE CAMPAIGNS Thramas Crusade (ca. 007-009.M31): The Night Lords 38th and 76th suffer heavy losses during the Thramas Crusade and consolidate their renaming forces together, casting off their previous company designations, re-christening themselves the Fangs of the Father. Battle of Vigrid's Fall (750.M31): The first action by the Fangs of the Father after the Horus Heresy and Great Scouring, the planet of Vigrid's Fall in the Segmentum Pacificus was a relatively undefended Agri and Armoury World. With a sudden swiftness, the Fangs launched their assault, rampaging across the world, stealing what material they could to resupply, as well as satiating their own proclivities for murder. While preoccupied, a force of the Angels of Penance arrived, setting off the Battle of Vigrid's Fall. While eventually driven off, nearly seven-hundred Astartes were slain between the Fangs of the Father and Angels of Penance, including both Jago Terask and Grand Master Ishmael, the two old rivals meeting one final time as a world burned around them. Massacre of Antilles V (015.M32): One of the first "Red Harvests" the Fangs of the Father committed after the Heresy. Bringing their full fleet, not just a few ships, the Fangs of the Father came to the planet Antilles V in the Segmentum Obscurus. A hive world of nearly eight billion, the Fangs would find ripe recruiting grounds here, as the planet had many hundreds of thousands of gangs. Two-hundred-and-fifty Astartes made planetfall, and within hours, the planet was thrown into turmoil and chaos as the Night Lords commit their atrocities. Within days the planet devolves into savagery and violence. In two weeks, the Fangs of the Father reduce the world of Antilles V to a blood-soaked abattoir. Their Red Harvest successful, with nearly a thousand aspirants being selected from the planet. Of those, six-hundred are successfully implanted with all Astartes organs, allowing the Fangs to replenish their numbers after the Scouring. Pandorax Campaign (959-961.M41): The Fangs of the Father sent a strike force of three-hundred Astartes to aid Abaddon the Despoiler in his assault on Pythos. While they stayed out of the ground battle this force, under the command of Targos Kastax 'the Breaker', do battle on the Imperial fleet. With numerous Dreadclaws and Kharybdis, they lead a direct attack on the Dark Angels Strike Cruiser Caliban's Fury. In the ensuing battle aboard the ship, the sorcerers and techmarines of the Night Lords send out a psychically enhanced blast of scrapcode, scrambling the Imperial fleet's targeting systems. In the chaos of the battle, Caliban's Fury is captured after numerous Night Lords terminators teleport directly onto the bridge, slaughtering the command crew of the vessel. Caliban's Fury makes an emergency warp jump and disappears from the battle, and is assumed lost with all hands. FLEET Aeterna Nox (Battle Barge): Flagship of the Night Lords 38th Company, heavily damaged by the Dark Angels legion during the Thramas Crusade. While she was saved from destruction and repaired to full operational capabilities, the venerable ship still bears deep scars along her armour in memory of the savage fighting. Revenant (Battleship, Unknown Class): Flagship of the Night Lords 76th Company. Known to have come out of the Thramas Crusade relatively unscathed, the vessel is known to contain a truly massive cargo bay, which contains all manner of armour and material of war. Child of Sorrow (Strike Cruiser): Originally a Strike Cruiser belonging to the Night Lords 76th company, command of this vessel was taken by Tarsus Vorgan during the Thramas Crusade. Since the Heresy's end, the vessel, while outwardly untainted, has become the haven of the Nurgle-blighted of the Fangs of the Father, shunned by the other Fangs for their corruption and taint. Nostramo's Retribution (Strike Cruiser): A Strike Cruiser of the Fangs of the Father, the first sighting of which was in late 961.M41. The craft is often used in ambushes and raiding of Imperial shipping lanes, as strangely, it gives off the IFF of a Dark Angels vessel. Only when within close visual range, and seeing the symbols of the VIIIth Legion, does its victims realize the mistake of letting the predatory vessel into their midst. ++ PLACEHOLDER - WORK IN PROGRESS ++

The game was a narrative one for my Astartes Chapter, therefore I had 1500 points while the Tyranids had only 1250, but the swarmlord had double the AoE of the hivemind than normal. Also the Lictor spawned only a charge away from the main bulk of the tactical Marines. This is my first battlereport so feel free to criticize me The victory condition was to either kill the Contemptor Dreadnought or the Swarmlord. “I have to go! They need me!” The metallic voice of brother Perseides echoed through the chamber. “Brother Bartel, you are not old enough to understand that! If I don´t join the fight today our enemy will crush us!” The Techmarine raised an eyebrow. “Brother. I know, I am not as ….. experienced as you, but I am an Astartes since five-thousand years. My duty is to keep you and your dreadnought-body alive.” “And I am bloody well, so. Let. Me. Go!” Even without the sarcophagus-attached monitors Bartel knew Perseides was angry. “In which chassis? Your plasmagun exploded, your stormbolter is jammed and one of your legs is still missing on the battlefield. If I install you in the chassis, what would you do? Crawl to the enemy?” “If I have to!” Brother Bartel sighed deeply. For a short time the chamber was quiet, just humming of the live support systems in the background. Brother Perseides broke the silence,”what´s with the old one?” “You are joking right? We don´t use it because the machine spirit is at least as stubborn as you, maybe even more. It rejected ever brother since nearly eight-thousand years.” “Now who is joking? Nobody is as stubborn as me! Give me that body!” “You know what? Maybe you are right on that part.” Hydraulics screeched and sirens howled as the Sarcophagus entered the old contemptor-chassis. The machine-spirit didn´t liked getting woken up and clearly it didn´t liked to get a new pilot. The Techmarine and his serfs needed more than an hour to install the Sarcophagus and half an hour to calm down the machine-spirit. With heavy steps the contemptor-dreadnought stomped out of his chamber. Sergeant Irius gave a questioning look to Bartel. “I go readying my squad, right?” Bartel looked back and sighed. “Yeah. Let´s go with him.” On the planets surface, Company-Sergeant Ariast was on his way to the imperial outpost command. It was only a matter of hours before his Marines gain victory over the besieged tyranids in the nameless city left of him and he wanted to inform the PDF about it. He looked to the dull sky for no real reason as he sees tyranidspores hitting a black dot in the sky. Something exploded and the dot went down. As the dot closed on him he recognised the object and opened all channels of his intercom. “Brothers! Ready yourselves for impact! A Thunderhawk is coming down near us!” Like one man all Astartes crouched. The Thunderhawk sailed over their heads and a shockwave went through the ground as the flyer crash-landed. Ariast looked up to and saw a dreadnought fighting his way through the ruined aircraft, making the most direct way to the besieged city, followed by some Astartes and an Techmarine. He scanned along the way the flyer took, to see if it missed the command bunker. The Thunderhawk did but the Tyranids not. As he sighted the bunker, the last member of the PDF command was slaugthered by a Lictor. Just seconds later the whole city roared as the stalemated xenos started their last attack on the Space Marines. Deployment: Turn one: The right flank went very well for the Marines. They killed the Lictor with ease and five Gargoyles too and the rest of them were killed in close combat. Also the Haruspex lost some wounds. On the left flank the assault Marines tried to interruped the coming Hormagaunt but fall short. The Gaunts ran past them and charged squad Irius, killing two of them. The Toxicrene shot at the assault Marines and fragged/eated seven of them. Turn two: The left flank was victorious again. the combat squad attacked the Ripper swarms, stomping some of them to the ground. The Centurions charged the Haruspex, eviscerate it completely while only using one brother. The Carnifex charged the Centurions and managed to nearly kill one but therefore gets destroyed. The right flank was a massacre. While the Gaunts died they managed to destroy five more Marines and the surviving six were removed by a fierce attack of the Toxicrene. Three Raverners came out of the ground behind Perseides but gets nearly completely eliminated by the contemptor. Turn three: The third round made the game clear. The last ravener died, as well as the Toxicrene. The Termagaunts with the fleshborers soaked most of the fire and only one remained on the battlefield. The Tyranids solemny managed to do some damage but nothing serious. Last turn: the combined fire of the Marines destroyed every gaunt on the table. only the swarmlord managed to survive with nothing but scratches. We let both of the victory conditions fighting against each other. The swarmlord was very unlucky, not even able to do a single wound. Perseides saw his chance, grabbed the head of the monster and ended its life. It took some time for the dust to settle. The stalemated Tyranids were killed but so were many Astartes. The Apothecarii ran around caring for their wounded brothers and Techpriests maintained the damaged systems, tanks and fortifications. Company-Sergeant went through the trenches towards the Techmarine and the dreadnought who fell down with the Thunderhawk. They stopped talking as Ariast came closer. “Don´t get me wrong brothers, but who told you it was a good idea to deploy that close to a siege?”, asked Ariast. “I am sincerely sorry sir, but we had to test the...”new” chassis for our honoured brother Perseides, in battle conditions. We couldn´t afford to land far away, we don´t know the influence of the contemptor to our brother yet.” The Company-Sergeant let his view sweep around both of them. “When you are finished with Brother Perseides I would appreciate it, that you help us with the equipment and machinery, Bartel.” “Of course, it won´t take long.” As Ariast went away, Perseides glanced down to the Techmarine. “You could have said him, that it was my fault. I was stubborn and now many of our brothers are dead. I wouldn´t have judged you for that. I would have understand that.” “But would have helped that anyone? I guess as long as your brain is not completely rotten in this Sarcophagus of yours you will not do something THAT stupid again. Also, these monsters you crushed may have killed even more of us.” “Nonetheless thank you for that and rest assured I grieve the dead of squad Irius and will give my best to redeem my failure.” “I ho-” Bartel was interrupted by the sound of a chainsword cutting through flesh only metres away of them. They saw the tip of it burst out of the stomach of the Toxicrene. A hand was pushed through the newly made slash, searching for a hold on the ground. Perseides was there first and teared out a big chunk of xeno meat and revealed an assault marine. Bartel helped him on his feet. “It´s okay! Help them! There are at least seven inside, not digested yet!” While working on the dead body of the Toxicrene, Bartel activated the intercomm,”Techmarine Bartel here! Need urgent medical support on the Toxicrene corpse!” In the end nine brothers were rescued from the cadaver, one of them was sergeant Irius. Perseides visited them as often as possible, pledging vows of redemption and revenge as well as promising to help them on the battlefield. After this victory the Astartes of the Genocide Angels were deployed elsewhere on the planet. While the Tyranids have to compute the huge losses dealt to them the nurglish menace in the Worgost hive grew stronger every hour. While the Space Marine force departed a figure in a shadow observed them. After the last of the Astartes went into the transport, it took out a communication device. “Inquisitor. Unknown Adeptus Astartes Chapter now on the way to Worgost. Until receiving new orders I will make my way to the hive city.”

Here my entry for the second challenge of the Iron Gauntlet The first pics are my characters: A Techmarine with conversion beam, made out of bits The brothers (actual brothers) made with green stuff. My first try on modeling The leader of the White Fortress detachment. Second try on modeling combined with bits My first (mostly) finished squad: My Assault Squad. I tried some new things on them like FW weathering powder and non-metalic-gold. As soon I get my hands on the GW-jewel-effect-paints I will finish this squad with it. Because I am really bad at giving names I still don´t have them for my characters. Feel free to suggest some Edit: Link to first-challenge-thread http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/332574-iron-gauntlet-genocide-angels-sixth-chapter/

Three of the characters of my DIY chapter. Sadly I have noone to try out the rules, so no points for them at the moment.

THE IMPERIAL SONS [/td][td=70%]CHAPTER NAME: .............. THE IMPERIAL SONS FOUNDING: ..................3RD [M.32] CHAPTER WORLD: .............BASTION FORTRESS MONASTERY: ........ECLIPSE GENE-SEED (PREDECESSOR): ...ULTRAMARINES KNOWN DESCENDANTS: .........NONE BATTLECRY: ................."IMPERIUM UNITED OVER ALL!" "We must put this misery behind us. We must enter a new chapter! And so I say to you that, as of this day, we are no longer Ultramarines! In honor of the ideals we fight for, in honor of the sacrifices of our brothers, in honor of the Emperor...as of this day we will take the name of our true purpose! As of this day, we are the Imperial Sons! For the Emperor!" - Galen Diomes, Praetor of the Imperial Sons Captain of the Imperial Sons, 2nd Company Member of the Crimson Guard, Imperial Sons 1st Company ORIGINS The origin of the Imperial Sons is one of betrayal, retribution and idealism. Once a part of the XIIIth Legiones Astartes, the Ultramarines, they were known as one of the fiercest followers of the Imperial Truth, which was delivered by the Emperor himself. As part of the Xth chapter, the Legionnaires under Arceas Odinathus witnessed some of the hardest fights the Legion had to endure. Before their gene-father, RobouteGuiliman was rediscovered on Macragge, the Xth chapter fought alongside the VIIIth Legiones Astartes, the Night Lords, for several times. From them, they learned how to use fear as a tool to bring entire wars to end. Though fear and intimidation were not the final means, they were useful in themselves. From destruction came rebuilding. From intimidation came trust. Those worlds, which were brought into compliance by Arceas Odinathus and his men, were glorious examples of the potency of mankind. From these worlds, the system sorrounding the world known as Corusca became their very masterpiece. Never did the Xth, also known as the Sons of the Imperium for outliving the tenets of the Imperial Truth, ever reform a world into such an efficient and prospering world. Corusca was said to potentially become a prime world like Macragge, a bastion of hope and future expansions. That all changed, when the first bombs fell on Calth. The dreadful betrayal of the XVIIIth Legion left its mark on the entirety of the sons of Guiliman. An invisible bond of shared horrors bound those, who survived the attrocities of Calth. Unfortunately, those, who were not present, like the Xth chapter, became outsiders within their own Legion. While their brothers bled in the dust of Heresy, Odinathus and his men fought in the northern realms of the Segmentum Ultima against the Heldaxi alliance. After finally hearing of what happened to their brothers, Odinathus decided to turn his forces against the retreating elements of both, the Word Bearers and the World Eaters. Thus, the Sons of the Imperium dived into the unstable region known as the Dominion of Storms, chasing down their traitorous brothers. In doing so, they reconquered Honourum and fought within the Nostraman sector against the remnants of the Night Lords traitors. In order to engage as much traitors as possible, Odinathus tasked his second in command, Galen Diomes, in plunging more into the Dominion, destroying every renegade force they would encounter, while he would be heading northbound. With half of the chapter under his direct control, Galen Diomes stayed within the Dominion, trying to eradicate the hiding traitors. Their main antagonist in this campaign became the Brotherhood of Kain, a confluence of both, the Word Bearers and the World Eaters. While fighting their nemesis, the Sons of the Imperium were trapped within the Dominion alongside their enemies because of rising storms and unpassable nebulas. Years later, the tides lifted and the few survivors of Diomes’ task force returned to the Imperium. It is assumed that the Brotherhood of Kain was completely eradicated. However, rumors were recently arising, heralding the return of Kain’s followers. In the meantime, the Second Founding was already done and the Third was drawing closer. Before they returned to Macragge did Diomes traveled to the nearby Corusca in order to resupply and enact crucial maintenances. However, when they entered the orbit of Corusca, they found nothing more than ashes and madness. Corusca had fallen beneath the merciless advance of Horus’ forces, turning it into a pit of anarchy and chaos worshipping cults, corrupted beyond salvation. Diomes had no other choice than to scorch the entire system, destroying everything they had once achieved. Blaming themselves for not being able to prevent Corusca’s demise and for not having prepared it against all odds, did they swore an eternal oath never let this happen again. From the ashes of Corusca did they arose anew as the Imperial Sons. It was they, who would bring the unquestionable truth of the Emperor to every world within the Imperium. The personal convictions and ideals of Diomes and his men were immingled with the tenets of the Imperium Truth and later with the Codex Astartes, forming the Corusca Doctrine. When they returned to Macragge, they found out that all loyal Legions had been divided into several chapters. As their brothers of the Scyths of the Emperor chapter, were Diomes’ men reformed into an independent chapter, the Imperial Sons. As such, they returned to the northeastern corner of the Dominion of Storms, claiming a new homeworld for their own, naming it Bastion. Once a former base of operation of the Brotherhood of Kain, it was conquered and reformed into a proud and loyal fortress world, serving as both, a social center and training grounds for the Imperial Sons. From Bastion did the Imperial Sons start their crusade of reclamation, slowly discovering the dangerous realm of the Dominion. While half of the chapter fought within the Dominion against rediscovered kingdoms of man and xenos alike, did the other half fought across the Imperium, serving in the name of the Imperial Truth and those, who had fallen in its name. HOMEWORLD Bastion, a name that speaks for itself, for Bastion is the incarnation of an imperial fortress world. This large, high-gravity world was covered in everything from rocky mountains and frozen ice fields, to rain forests full of carnivorous plants and deserts. As such, this planet was the perfect training ground for combat in difficult terrain. Its cities built at the shores of the seas gave birth to strong and resistible people, which again were the perfect pool to recruit for the ranks of both, the Imperial Guard and the Imperial Sons. But like most of the more famous worlds across the Imperium, Bastion has its dark secrets, deeply hidden in its history. Centuries ago, while the galaxy burned in the flames of betrayal fratricide, the world, which former name was lost in time, was once a base of operations for some of the most cruel and corrupted members of Horus’ forces, the Brotherhood of Kain. The Brotherhood fought against the forces of Galen Diomes, a high ranking member of the XIIIthLegionesAstartes. This conflict lasted for years and its degree of bloodshed and ferocity caught them in a rising warp storm, separating them for centuries to go. When the storm had finally lifted, the Brotherhood was no more and the victorious sons of Guiliman returned home. Shortly after did Diomes return to Bastion, a world that was more home to him than even Macragge. Rebuilding and reshaping it into a proud world of the Imperium, the newly founded Imperial Sons were allowed to take this planet as their new homeworld, naming it Bastion. Academies for the Imperial Guard were founded as well, all over Bastion as its environment was well suited for all kind of terrain exercises. One of the most notable academies of Bastion was the Caridan Academy, known for its excellent recruits. The Imperial Sons, having such a potent pool of possible neophytes at their doorstep, integrated their recruiting process within the academies. From their recruits did the Imperial Sons select the most promising ones for their own process. Those, who would fail these trials, would continue their "normal" drill, which will make them superb candidates for both Imperial Army and further the Tempestus Scions. If a recruitwas founded not suitable for military life, he or she rejoined their communities as disciplined and dedicated members. Under the imperial rule and under the guidance of the Imperial Sons, Bastion became one of the most reclusive and heavily guarded worlds in the Dominion of Storms. Most natural routes were mined and its defense fleet, which headquarters was an ancient space station, known only as Valor’s Fist, covered the rest. Valor’s Fist itself served as the Imperial Sons fortress monastery, thus making it the center point of all military actions of Bastions scions.Besides its numerous regiments, which exercised within its academies and the forces of the Imperial Sons, was the planet itself surrounded by a chain ofplanetary shields, protecting its most important cities and strategic facilities. ORGANIZATION Although being a true successor of the Ultramarines, the Imperial Sons did not follow the tenets of the Codex Astartes as some might suggest. For them, the regimentations of Roboute Guiliman were more of an advice role than a dogmatic rule. Adhering to the ideals of the Imperial Truth, did they kept the organizational structure of the Great Crusade, which was laid down in the Principia Bellicosa and written by the Emperor Himself. As such, the chapter was divided into two Battalions, which again consisted of four companies. Learning from their mistakes in the past by leaving compliant worlds on their own again, one Battalion staid within the Segmentum Pacificus in order to safeguard their assigned territory. Stationed aboard the chapters’ fortress monastery, the Valor’s Fist, they fought across the Segmentum Pacificus against uprisings and incursions. In the meantime, did the other Battalion fought, aboard the chapters’ flagship Chimeara, across the Imperium to hold up their duties towards mankind and to become more experienced in battling all kind of foes, be it Ork, Necron or traitor. After a century of waging war, both Battalions switch places in order to do several things: restock their supplies, initiation of new recruits, while the refreshed Battalion continues the chapters’ never-ending quest of unifying the galaxy under the Emperors’ rule. Either each Battalion, which was led by the Commander himself or his second in command, consisted of the following: A command squad, including the advisors of the Battalions leader 4 Companies, each divided into four Platoons and led by a Captain Each Platoon consisted of three squads and was led by a Lieutenant 48 Squads in total, each led by a Sergeant Half of the elite 1st Company, the Crimson Guard, about 80 Troopers Half of the 10th Scout Company, about 80 Neophytes Each Platoon in every company had its designated role. For example, every first Platoon consisted of the company’s veterans, with the first squad being the command squad of said company. As the Imperial Sons were a secretive and distrustful chapter, the following assumptions regarding their dedicated tactical composition is basing on third party observations and eyewitnesses. First Platoon: Command Squad and veterans Second Platoon: Tactical Squads Third Platoon: one Tactical and two Assault Squads Fourth Platoon: one Tactical and two Devastor Squads This way, the Imperial Sons proofed to be a very flexible and adaptable force to be reckoned with. It was not uncommon for them to deploy a Platoon instead of an entire company if they had to deal with a lesser threat. As the companies number way more members than codex aligned chapters, the entire chapter of the Imperial Sons is far larger than most of the known, established successors of Guiliman, having about 1300 members in total. Specialists like Chaplains or Apothecary were spread across both Battalions like the elite first company, the Crimson Guard. Acting as the Commanders personal bodyguard and the ultimate enforcers of the chapters’ ideology, the members of theCrimson Guard are the pinnacle of the chapters’ dedication and martial proofness. Each Trooper of the Imperial Sons desired to become as excellent as these red clad warriors. To become a member of the Crimson Guard, one had to proof himself in numerous battles until he was chosen to join the ranks of the company’s cadre of veterans, the Black Hand. These veterans served as a pool of experience for their company and as a source of recruits for the Crimson Guard, whose leader acted as the second in command of the Commander, leading an entire Battalion on his own. Furthermore, the Black Hand designation was to do what had to be done to keep order by any means. Even the use of terror tactics and sabotage missions were a usual mean, which was justified by the end. If the Commander did fell in battle, the Sovereign Protector, how the Crimson Guards’ leader was called, immediately took command over the entire chapter. Another note of importance was the fact that the Imperial Sons did not run any form of a Librarium. The reasons for that are deeply hidden in the vaults of Valor’s Fist but by analyzing the chapter’s past, one can conclude that fighting against numerous chaos cults and its demonical masters, left its mark on the chapter. Furthermore, it seems that the battle of Chorryn was the event in which the chapter abandoned its entire Librarium. Eyewitnesses have reported of a civil war within the Imperial Sons’ ranks. With their chief librarianor even their Commander having fallen to chaos, the chapter had to fight itself, leading to the death of all psykers within their ranks. From that day on, no further mentioning of any form of psi wielding Imperial Sonwere to be found. If it is a result of the loss of their Librarium or just a sign of further radicalism cannot be said for sure but the Imperial Sons do rank more chaplains as codex aligned chapters. Preaching their visions and ideology of the Imperial Truth, these chaplains spread their word across the worlds of the Imperium. It is they, who are heavily involved in reshaping those worlds, which were saved by the Imperial Sons. This impression is underlined by the following quote: “We are the true sons of the Imperium. We do not requirewitches or cursed souls within our ranks. We are His blade and bolter. We are His vision incarnate. None shall stand against His truth!” COMBAT DOCTRINE When the Imperial Sons were still a part of the XIIIth Legiones Astartes, the Ultramarines, they were recognized as Lord Guilimans jack of all trades, excelling in every combat on every battlefield and environment but never having mastered any specific form of waging war like siege warfare or boarding actions. Therefore, they compensated the lack of mastery by making use of multi-vector operations, regardless of terrain. In doing so, they finally specialized in a certain way of waging war, adding their expertise to Guilimans resources. Ten thousand years later did the Imperial Sons perfect this preferred doctrine, whose tenets were laid down in the Corusca doctrine. It is a manifold compendium, including the visions of their genefather, Roboute Guiliman, the ideals of the Great Crusade and the additions of their founder, Galen Diomes. As they had once served along the formerly loyal VIIIth Legion, they had learned how to use fear and intimidation in such a way, which allowed them to end conflicts without a bolter shell being fired. This usage of psychological warfare combined with multi vector operations made the Imperial Sons a potent opponent. A good example of their way of fighting would be the battle of Jandor. There, they had laid an ambush for a large cell of rebels. After the trap had sprung, the Imperial Sons entangled the rebels in the void, aboard nearly stolen ships and on the surface of Jandor. Everything was perfectly timed. While the Imperial Sons troopers did deal with the rebels, massive air support came from the cold void, dropping their bombs on top of the rebel encampments. In the meantime, did the Imperial Sons fleet encircle their enemies, unleashing hundreds of boarding parties, which again took over the hostile fleet, annihilating any form of resistance. The Imperial Sons prefer the usage of energy based weaponry instead of bolters, like volkites, plasma guns, melters, etc. This weaponry is more adaptable to certain battlefields like underwater engagements or vacuum battles. As such, they made use of a certain, heavily modified version of laser fangs, which were originally used by Stormhawk interceptors and were redefined as infantry weapons. With the support of the nearby forgeworld of Jandor, the Imperial Sons are able to equip their troops with this kind of weaponry. Furthermore, Jandor provided the Imperial Sons with a very rare and special vehicle, the Diadectes class transport, an amphibious transport class, which was basing on the ancient Mastodon transporter. GENESEED Like their primogenitor, the Ultramarines, do the Imperial Sons have a stable and pure geneseed without any known flaws. But still, it was never used for the any foundation of a successor chapter. It seems that, because of their wayward behaviour and sometimes marginal deeds, did the High Lords of Terra concerns about using their genetic heir. Some argue if the „rebellious“ character of the Imperial Sons is in fact a hidden flaw in their geneseed but none of these rumors were proofed to be real. Furthermore, it was observed that the Imperial Sons seemed to be more obedient towards orders than normal chapter, although this refers to orders given by within their own ranks. Orders and requests done by other imperial authorities, especially the Ecclisiarchy and the Inquisition were not answered immediately, if any. This strengthened the impression of tensed relations between them and official, imperial authorities. BELIEFS / CULTURE It is not uncommon for chapters of the Adeptus Astartes, to envision themselves as born warriors of the Emperor, the incarnate Angels of Death. But sometimes, there is a chapter who despises this self imposed depiction. The Imperial Sons are one of the latter. The Imperial Sons saw themselves as the soldiers of the Emperor and not as savage warriors, conquering for the sake of it. Their duty was one of reconquering and reshaping the galaxy itself in the tenets of the Emperors own decree, the Imperial Truth. As such, they embodied the Imperial Truth, which was written down by the Emperor Himself, with every fibre of their very being. The key facts of it were summarized and expanded by the founder of the Imperial Sons, Galen Diomes, adding the teachings of his genefather, Roboute Guiliman and his own experiences since the Great Crusade. He named the result the Corusca Doctrine, honoring his chapters greatest loss during the merciless years of the Horus Heresy. Though it based upon the Emperors work, the result was more of a twisted version of this noble and honorable decree. In using fear and indimidation as a mean to bring world into compliance, the Corusca Doctrine taught that effectiveness and succes against all odds mattered above everything else, ensuring mankinds survival. Failure was not acceptable and had to be eradicated. If a population had to be purged from the weakness of a ruling cast, which was founded guilty of failing the Emperor, than so be it. This behaviour resulted in a reputation of cold, ruthless and sometimes fearsome warriors, which walked amidst the stars. Fear followed in their wake, forcing adversaries to lay down their weapons in order to prevent sanctions like the infamous Ghorman-massacre. As the Imperial Sons declared every form of worship being a heresy to the Emperors vision, they were at odds with the Ecclisiarchy and other religious institutions. Nevertheless, other institutions like the Astra Militarum or the Ordos of both, Xenos and Malleus are more than willing to reap the fruits of the Imperial Sons merciless labour. Therefore, the sons of Bastion are both respected and feared within the Imperium. Growing up within the storm-tossed and still untapped region known as the Dominion of Storms, the officers and citizens of Bastion grew up with the Corusca Doctrine. Under the guidance of Imperial veterans and the Imperial Sons, along with approved literature, vids and mandatory viewings of morale sessions twice a day for cadets, officers would learn of the glorious past of the Imperium and how it had been robbed by the doings of both, Horus and those, who later called themselves the Ecclisiarchy. Many of Bastions citizens believed that only they could have the power necessary to wrest the galaxy from a path of chaos and corruption. Pre-recorded speeches often filled the airwaves, in which the leaders of Bastion would often comment on the depravity of the Imperium with revolts on several worlds, the corrupted horrors of heretics, and unchecked xenos advances throughout the outer realms of the Imperium. Following which stories of the Imperial Sons victories such as liberation of Galbak or winning a fleet battle in the Voluzar sector against a ravaging Ork fleet. Now, with the rise of the Avenging Son, their gene father Roboute Guiliman, are the Imperial Sons rejoice the coming of a new age. Immediately did they send half of their chapter towards Macragge in order to support their liege. SELECTED BATTLE HONORS The Jandor ambush: When the Adeptus Mechanicus came to the northern realms of the Dominion of Storms, it was looking for miscellaneous. Be it artifacts, lost archeotech or a place to test their newest inventions, everything seemed to be of value for the Lord Magi of Mars. But their thirst for new resources and worlds to exploit and civilizations to assimilate was the true cause behind the uprising commonly known as the Rebellion. Revolting against the Mechanicus’ oppression, the leaders of the Rebellion waged a guerrilla war against the seemingly overwhelming forces of Jandor, the centre of the Mechanicus approach of exploitation. Unable to get rid of the disturbing assaults and raids, did the Lords of Jandor contact the Imperial Sons. Together, they set a trap above Jandor itself. There, in its massive shipyards, was a mighty battleship near its completion. By withdrawing their forces to engage rumoured bases of the Rebellion, did the Imperial Sons give them an opportunity to strike. As suspected did the Rebel fleet emerge from the warp, trying to assault the seemingly defenceless Jandor. Ground forces boarded the shipyards, trying to capture the mighty vessel. Distractions were sent to bind Jandors forces on the surface. When the boarding party reached the helpless vessel did the Imperial Sons spring their trap. The fleet of the second battalion emerged from the warp, cutting the rebel fleet off from any escape route. Entire companies had waited aboard the battleship and within the hive cities of Jandor, waiting for the right time to strike. In a massive ambush did the Imperial Sons make use of their preferred way of waging war. With their multi vector attacks and ambushes on the surface of Jandor, within the shipyards and the in the planets orbit, did the sons of Bastion annihilate the entire military force of the Rebellion once and for all. The remaining rebels lost any hope and laid down their weapons, resulting in their capture and conversion into mindless servitors. As a result of their close collaboration did the Lord Magi of Jandor pledge their loyalty to the Imperial Sons, ensuring their supply with individual wargear, such as the Diadectes-class transport. The genocide of Konig Secundus: When the Imperium lost contact with the entire star system of Konig Secundus and its surrounding outposts at once, a nearby crusading fleet of the Imperial Sons chapter was recruited to engage the incident. With an emergency strike force, consisting of elements of the 26th Alphic Scorpions and the Phantom Blades chapter on route to support them, the Imperial Sons hurried to arrive as soon as possible. Entering the outer rims of Konig Secundus just in time to support the last survivors of the local Astra Militarum, the Imperial Sons witnessed the carnage which was unleashed here. The Scion of Madness, a massive Space Hulk which was led by the traitor warband known as the Iron Fist, hung deep in the lower orbit above Konig Secundus, the defending fleet scattered around it. There was nearly no response from Konig Secundus itself but those survivors, who had gathered within the southest fortress, Tal Dabor. Engaged by the Imperial Sons’ fleet, the Scion of Madness was long enough distracted until imperial reinforcements had arrived. Outnumbered and in a desperate battle for survival, the Iron Fist was about to flee. Sacrificing much of its warmachines to secure the escape, the Scion of Madness was barely able to flee but it made it into warp. As both sides had taken heavy casualties and with the completed genocide on Konig Secundus' people, no one dared to call that a victory. The Devourer of worlds: When more and more Hive fleets of the ferocious Tyranids appear at the border so the Imperium, did the Second Battalion heed the distress call of a range of imperial worlds. Facing a small tendril of the Hive Fleet Moloch above the world of Manwantes Tertius, the sons of Bastion fought fiercely and boarded the massive bio ships, trying to destroy the cerebella connection between the organisms and the upper hive mind. Although being successfull, the Imperial Sons were nearly annihilated. They were barely able to escape and had to take heavy casualties, depleting their numbers tremendously. Even with the final victory denied to them, the sons of Bastion did not hesitate and joined a combined fleet of Storm Rider and Phantom Blade elements and return to the Manwantes system, extinguishing the remaining xenos forces APPEARANCE “The chrome of my armor once coated the blades of the Primarch'sHonour Guards- blades that broke in their final battles, as the Honour Guards gave their lives for our father. As the wearer of the chrome armor, I must serve as a living memorial to their sacrifice, and an example to my brothers in the Crimson Guards." Vow of the Sovereign Protector The Imperial Sons heavily derive from their Ultramarine predecessors. They choose the colors of white, blac and red for them to bear. Each color has a distinctive meaning for them and in order to resemble their various ranks, the follow a strict code. The color of white resembled the purity of their purpose, the unification of mankind and the propagation of the Imperial Truth. Red stood for the sacrifices they were willing to make in order to accomplish their goals. If those sacrifices were of their own losses or civil casualties did not matter. The loss of the Emperor and their beloved father was of such impact that the Imperial Sons still bear the color black as a symbol of their mourning. Furthermore, it also represents their self-proclaimed role as the executors of the Emperors’ grand vision. As they loosely follow the tenets of the Codex Astartes, they implemented their own ranking system. The distinctive colors stood for certain ranks. They wore these colors on their right shoulder: Troopers, white shoulder inlet; white armor with black trim Sergeants, green shoulder inlet; white armor with black trim Lieutenant, yellow shoulder inlet; white armor with black trim Captain, red shoulder inlet; white armor with black trim Black Hand, white / green shoulder inlet; black armor with white trim Crimson Guard, white / green shoulder inlet; black armor with white trim Sovereign Protector, black shoulder inlet; chrome armor with red trim Commander, black shoulder inlet; black armor with red trim Furthermore, the Imperial Sons honor their armor in a different way than most other chapters. Instead of wearing their armor from their initiation until their death, each Imperial Sons obtains his armor with a certain rank. Acting as both, status symbol and recognition of their deeds, the variety of armor patterns are restricted as rewards. Besides very few and rare occasions, the different armor patterns were used as such: Trooper: MK V & VII, most widespread and common Mark within the Imperial Sons' ranks Black Hand: MK IV & VI, the most advanced patterns in terms of stealth abilities and combat proofness Crimson Guard: Indomitus Terminator armor, though telics as such, the Indomitus pattern is still the most commonly used by all chapters Sovereign Protector & Commander: heavily customized Terminator armor, basing upon the Tartaros pattern Color schemes: --------=][=-------- #End of record# To proceed, please open attached note *Opening attached note* Thought of the day: Ignorance can be a blessing to the soul... Hello there, first of all: I'm impressed of how active this subforum as become! All of these great, new ideas and chapter. Really glad that the subforum, which brought me into this brotherhood, is flourishing again! Thanks for that and keep it up! :tu: With the recently started Iron Gauntlet and Brotherhood of the Angels challenges, I though, why not participating as well? And why inventing something new if you already got a rough theme? Some of you might have noticed the Brotherhood of the Lost aka the Icarion Insurrection project. While working on it, I got an idea for a Second Founding chapter for the later years of the Insurrection. I'll be using this idea for the Liber Astartes challenges. As these are just a compilation of ideas, I'd require your assistance in order to make it a fitting article which makes sense in the end. ;) So what am I intending to do? Basically this: oh wait...before I start...this might help you to get into the right mood: So yeah, you might have guessed it: I'm intending to transfer the Galactic Empire / First Order from Star Wars into Warhammer 40K. Wait, don't leave right away, ok? Let me present my ideas and then you can leave if you want. Some bits are not yet decided. - Name: Imperial Sons - Origin: Ultramarines - History: former chapter / company of the XIIIth Legion, which brought many worlds into compliance; during / after the Heresy; they return to these worlds in order to reconquer them or support them against the rising threats of the Scouring; they see, how devastated these worlds have become and blame themselves for that for not having prepared them against all odds; become more and more obsessed with the Imperial Truth and the ideals of the Great Crusade, shaping worlds in the tenets of the Emperors grand vision - Combat Doctrine: multi-vector operations regardless of terrain; inspired by the great battles of Star Wars; take the battle of Endor as an example: precise ground and void ambushes, using the Deathstar as a killing blow and coordinated fleet operations (I'm willingly leaving the Empires failure out of this as it was most likely Palpatines fault); make more use of energy based weaponry than bolters (volkites, plasma guns, heavy lasers, etc.) - Organization: loosely follow the Codex Astartes (they see it as a guideline of their Primarch), more engaging the Principia Bellicosa as this was done by the Emperor himself; example: Chapter Master = Praetor, Captain = Centurion, etc.; maybe the'll have a special unit formation as well, resembling the Ultramarines former Destroyer squads; shoulder inlet indicates their ranks, company is displayed via numbers on kneepad - Culture: strict adherents of the Great Crusade and further of the Imperial Truth; therefore, they are at nearly hostile towards the Ecclisiarchy and the wider, corrupted imperial bureaucrats (and thus closely watched by the Ordo Hereticus); known to be ruthless, cold and sometimes brutal in their exertions; example: the successfully protected a world against an Ork-Waaagh! Afterwards, they executed the entire ruling cast as they saw them as incompetent and unworthy of ruling a world in the Emperor's name. Thus, the entire world was reshaped to be more adherent to their interpretation of the Imperial Truth. - Homeworld: name is Bastion; not a death world, but rather a climate world with several drastic climate zones like deserts, glaciers, etc.; perfect to train Astartes warriors; you can compare it with the worlds of Ultramar or the Star Wars world of Carida - Notable Elements: flagship being the Chimeara, a large and mighty vessel of a lost pattern (something like the Fists' Tribune); Galen Diomes, first praetor and founder of the chapter; it was him, who determined the chapters strict course So that is nearly all what I got so far. I did wrote down a small characterization of Galen Diomes and a timeline for the BotL, which can be adapted to the canon universe. I'm eager to hear your thoughts in order to improve and to flesh out this idea. Kelborn

DESERTER Nothus peered over the fallen wall during a brief respite from constant autogun fire while his armor's auspex registered potential targets within the hazy mess of the keep's breach. Ducking back down again as another wave poured out from behind the ruined barricade, he readied himself for the approaching horde of poorly-equipped militia. "Vita brevis", he sighed to himself as he stood up and took aim. Chunked entrails spewed outward almost instantly as his neatly-placed shell detonated within the chest of the one of the city's still-fervent defenders. As he lept into the foray, boltgun still blazing, the violent screams surrounding him slowly coalesced to a cacophonous roar. A few ominous clicks preceded a brief moment of silence before the frag grenade cleared the smoked-filled killing field before him. + + + "The Bastard", as he is known among his fellow warriors, abandoned his oaths to the Imperium upon being captured during the Fall of Badab. His lower half was found to be all but destroyed, and he had suffered extensive melta burns from his chest to his nose, which had since been replaced with a bionic rebreather. He had chosen life when it was offered along with his surrender and personal service to technical and medical genius known "Ovis" of the enigmatic renegade Astartes group known as "The Violent Gods". Nothus Dega spat on his former allegiances quite willingly when given a chance to subvert his fate by transcending the limits of the body- a body he had finally been made to understand was as mortal as anything else made of flesh and blood. The nickname was indeed well-earned. He had recently been assigned as a squad leader while the Gods' officer ranks were thinned as part of his long journey toward induction into the group's inner circle,. Despite his considerable combat prowess, however, his primary interest was found outside the battlefield. He had not been chosen from among his class of aspirants to study the ways of the Cult Mechanicus, and the sting of failure had haunted him throughout his tenure with the Sons of Medusa. With new life had come a new sense of reverence for the mysteries of existence and a deep desire to master them. Now with the wisdom garnered from his near-death experience, he cared little for the orthodoxy of the source from which such knowledge might be acquired. The knowledge to which he now had access surpassed his wildest conceptions, and so there were no limits to what he would subject himself to in order to maintain his access to it. Though he had started off as simply a de facto heretic, he now found himself among the true believers. Achieving his masters' military objectives was his duty for the time being, however, and his own interests would simply have to wait. + + + The field in front of the wall's opening had not been cleared entirely by his grenade, and he would now have to clean up after himself. Nothus rarely said much before entering the field of battle, and even his centuries now spent fighting for the cause of the Violent Gods had not changed his old ways. Far more terrifying than any voice was his cold silence, and Nothos took a certain sort of pleasure in experiencing the simple sounds and smells of warfare without distraction. The rhythms of the dull thuds of slumping bodies accompanied a dozen final breaths as Nothus let loose a quick burst of boltgun rounds into the disorganized mob. Blood-curtling yelps threatened his trance-like advance as his fellow warriors surged forward on both sides. All the while, he squeezed his power axe tightly as he continued to let loose into the smoke-wrought carnage before him. A lone defender somehow trudged through the overwhelming firepower and set his path directly towards Nothus, who sidestepped the hail of poorly-placed autopistol fire and slashed low and wide as he stepped forward. The move left the man groaning pitifully as his legless torso dropped, intenstines flopping onto the ground in a sputtering haze of blood and bile. A familiar series of symbols flashed across Nothus' visual field as his enhanced armor confirmed the presence of the chemical he had already tasted in the city's blood-soaked air: iron, the indelible marker of human mortality. All around him the city's ragged vanguard continued their dogged advance, even if their efforts must have felt quite fruitless. Behind him, friendly lascannon fire from Ovis' detachment rained down into the breach, carving holes into the city's desperate counter-attack, including the failing walls that continued to funnel the city's defenders directly into the spearhead led by Nothus himself. The enigmatic techno-mystic, however, was absent as usual, preferring instead to keep company with his esoteric bio-mechanical research and sending his equerry to command in his stead. Nothus recalled his surrender and conversion to the cause of the Violent Goes quite vividly. Though his memories of his final battle as a sworn Medusan still remained vague, his revival on a cold operating table in Ovis' laboratory came back in exquisite detail. An acrid itch pulsed all across his chest as his visual field remained a dark void, spotted by fuzzy pockets of orange light. The image cleared to the dull outline of a dark figure hovering over him in the dimly-lit and bitter-smelling chamber. "Would you like to know why you're alive?" The bite of the metallic voice sent shivers down Nothus's spine, further exacerbating his increasingly desperate urge to pull his bound arms up to rip out whatever thing had replaced his ruined face and chest so as to stop the maddening itch. His violent thrashing calmed and he grunted pained assent as the figure paced around to the other side of the operating table. "You have an air of tenacity about you, a quality I observed in you even from across the battlefield. Should you renounce your vows to the Imperium and swear allegiance to me, I can allow you to continue on and to learn from my technically-gifted friend Ovis here the ways of machines and of the flesh in this world, and of the subtle interactions between them. On my end- I, Jaruk the Apostate, can teach you the secrets of the universe, for they are many, and our keys to our access to many of those secrets themselves lies hidden in various parts of our material domain. The Imperium has- for the entirety of its existence- endeavored to hide certain truths from us. Perhaps those motivations were for simply our preservation, or perhaps for intentions more nefarious, but nonetheless, kept from us despite the crucial role we played in its very sustenance. I suspect that you, too- particularly in your training regarding the circumstances of your chapter's birth- came to wonder if such things might be true. They are true, and you are only alive because they are true. Since the alternative is that Ovis transplants a new head onto your torso and throws your current one away, have you made your decision?" + + +