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We were a legion once. Now, we are little more than rabid dogs biting at each other. The decent into madness started long ago, after our fateful reunion with our genefather. Our leaders were the first to go. The Legion Master was gutted in our Primarch’s berserker fury. Khârn himself was almost beaten to death. Perhaps we should have bombarded that planet and reduced it to ashes, with Angron still upon it. We succumbed to the bite of the Buthchers’ Nails more often as the Heresy ground on. Worlds burned and their populations cried out as we slaughtered our way to Terra. Though we appeared to be a mindless, bloodthirsty rabble, we remained a legion. We remained unified in purpose under our captains, our centurions, and our Primarch. Then we lost at Terra. We charged into the teeth of the loyalist defenses at the Imperial Palace. Hundreds of our brothers perished breaching the gates. Even our feared 8th Captain fell. But we exacted a terrible toll on the defenders. We took many skulls. We had come so close. But then the Sons of Horus retreated, soon to be followed by the other Traitor Legions. We were among the last to leave. We hacked our way out of the Palace defenses and cut a path back to our landing zones. A few dozen of us who still retained some fraction of our senses fought our way toward Khârn’s body and carried him from the field. We could do little but scream in hatred and frustration as we battled our way back across the blasted killing fields before the Palace. We had come so close. My bolter had run dry and my chainaxe was rendered useless hours earlier. I made do with a captured plasma pistol and gladius ripped from the dying grasp of an Imperial Fists sergeant. I nearly overheated that pistol while driving back our pursuers. Captain Ursus deployed several armored vehicles to cover our retreat and annihilate the Blood Angels pursuing us. As we gathered behind the wall of fire provided by Predators, Sicarrans, and Spartans, flights of Stormbirds, Thunderhawks, and Storm Eagles descended from the smoke and dust clouded sky. What was left of my squad and I boarded a Storm Eagle seconds before it lifted off of Terra’s blasted surface. I looked around the troop compartment. Several of my brothers had removed their helmets. Blood dripped from their noses and mouths. Their eyes were hollow and stared at nothing. Nobody spoke. As the ramp began to close, I gazed down at the burning yet defiant Imperial Palace fading in the distance. We had come so close. -Sergeant Droath of the warband known as the Wrathful Host, XII Legion Astartes Hello all, I figured that I needed to start a WIP thread for my World Eaters warband here. I've been working on this army for some time now and posting updates on the CSM forum. I am participating in Call of Chaos this year and I am much more motivated to put together models and paint than normal. My warband is known as the Wrathful Host, and I am depicting it as it was directly after the Siege of Terra and during the Scouring. It is led by Lord By-Tor, former captain of the 202nd Company. My army is heavy on berzerkers and armored vehicles because 1. I play World Eaters, so chop chop 2. I like tanks. . . a lot I'll post some more images of the units I have finished so far and more fluff later, but for now here is Sgt. Droath and his squad of veterans (Chosen) ca. the Battle of Skalathrax.