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Showing results for tags 'IIIrd'.
When they speak of our legion, they recall tales of debauched excess; screaming madmen who are little more than slaves to their crude desires. Servants to sin. There was a time, however, when the IIIrd stood for something else, something more pure; master warriors and swordsmen without peer. Our father Fulgrim epitomises this foul change, of course he does, it was he who lead our former brothers from the apex of grace to the nadir of depravity. We cannot claim innocence in the collapse of our legion, we rejoiced as passionately as any other when Fabius returned from his gore stained ventures to the limit of astartes physiology, enhancing us far beyond the Emperor’s original designs. We even accepted the new weapons pioneered by Marius’ damned company on the stained sands of Isstvan, reveling in their destructive power. Aye, we followed the Warmaster gladly when he raised his banner against Terra, though we remained ever loyal to our legion’s goal and, in fact, pursue it still more rigorously than our twisted father and his disciples. That of perfection, mastery of the self and of war. That endless quest to become the ultimate warlords. After conquering the galaxy, what test remained other than that of destroying the greatest war machine ever to exist? The juggernaut of the Imperium, protected by rank upon rank of gene-bred killers was to be the truest test of our skill. In our eyes, we are the true inheritors of the mantle of the IIIrd, even as Fulgrim betrayed his father, he betrayed his own sons and brothers on blasted Terra, abandoning the fight to hunt flocks of human cattle across the world. Who knows how many of our brothers would still draw breath if our legion had not disgraced itself, had not broken ranks, shamelessly discarding discipline in favour of reckless indulgence? We remained steadfast, fighting and dying according to battle drills tested across a thousand worlds. Alas it was not enough, and the rest, as you well know, is history...