IA: Death Heads

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

Don't be so defensive.

I said that the bayonet on bolter is useless. Your argument of "GW did it with Sororitas" doesn't change the validity of my point.

 

Sorry but rubbish. 40k is very much split between proper hand to hand melee combat that we haven't seen since the middle ages and the modern ranged warfare practice today.

 

Even on todays battlefield soldiers are still issued weapons with bayonet attachments.

 

A little while ago now there was an operation in Iraq where a US Marine unit was running low on ammunition when in a pitched battle with insurgents and took a 'flub this' approach, fixing bayonets and charging at the enemy who promptly ran like hell. In the same situation, I would run like hell too.

 

Most modern military arms still train their soldiers basic bayonet use, the Marines have an extensive course that you must complete to be declared competent too.

 

On a sniper rifle? Yes, totally superfluous. On a submachine gun? Not the best attachment because of the range that the weapon is supposed to be used at anyway.

 

On what amounts to the Astartes version of a Carbine, units that frequently get into melee's with the enemy, a big ruddy blade would probably be rather helpful.

 

Your point is an opinion, not a fact. Don't treat it as such.

[NightrawenII]

*Sigh*

 

Once again: The fixed bayonet is here to emulate a spear. The bayonet on lasgun makes sense because the lasgun is rifle. However in comparison to lasgun the bolter is short, heavy and cumbersome.

 

Conclusion: Bayonet on bolter makes no sense. Is this clear or should I explain it once more?

 

Edit: And in comparison to IG conscripts the SM are trained in proper close combat.

Edited February 6, 2011 by NightrawenII

[Donkey Kong]

*cough* *cough* *cough*

 

Sorry about that. I'll keep the bayonet line, regardless of how much or little sense it makes, because it makes sense to me (and others as well).

 

I'm actually surprised this has generated more heat than the line about the pistol sword :cuss .

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

However in comparison to lasgun the bolter is short, heavy and cumbersome.

 

Not to a space marine, if it was heavy and cumbersome it would be useless to them as standard issue and used as a heavy weapon.

 

Conclusion: Bayonet on bolter makes no sense. Is this clear or should I explain it once more?

 

Fixed conclusion: It makes no sense to you. Also, try to be less condescending, your opinion is not fact as I have already explained, so give it a rest.

 

Sorry about that. I'll keep the bayonet line, regardless of how much or little sense it makes, because it makes sense to me (and others as well).

 

:D

Edited February 6, 2011 by Grey Hunter Ydalir

[NightrawenII]

I'm actually surprised this has generated more heat than the line about the pistol sword :D .

I don't have problem with pistol swords (or sword pistols :) ), because they are quite plausible, but the idea of bayonet on bolter is simply too impractical for any actual use.

[Donkey Kong]

This is my Work in Progress for February's Iron Gauntlet. I thought the true birth of the Chapter would take place long before anything else when Caphon decided to take up the mantle of Chapter Master with his own nihilistic spin. So, tear into it and enjoy :( !

 

I was born when giants fell, and when an empire was brought to its knees by the very men who built it. I have lived through the death and rebirth of humanity. I have survived the Great Scouring, and I have led warriors against the traitors who destroyed work that could never be reachieved, even in a million lifetimes. I am an Astartes, and I am nothing.

 

But, I am not dead. Yet.

 

“Caphon” The words bring me back as memories fade back into nothing. Nothing. Like me. They try to flood my mind, but the room sends them back again. It is bright, draped in the white livery that has become my own since the end of the Great Scouring. It is blank. Fitting, I think, but I chase the thought away.

 

The Chapter Master is kind to me. He is patient, waiting for my attention to leave his offer, the offer of the High Lords of Terra have given the Chapter, and the past, and return to him. I look from the blue eagle behind him to his face. He smiles, and continues,

 

“This is a great honor, Brother.” Brother. It is a word I always hear, always embraced by my kin, but brotherhood has never comforted me. Not since Calth. The Chapter Master is fair to me with those words. I am several centuries his senior, though neither of our bodies would show it. I nod my I understanding, but I am still reluctant to take it.

 

Sergeant Derii. That has always been my place. I have never left it since the Second Founding. Always Sergeant, or Venerable, never Captain, never Chapter Master, though I have lived under more than I care to remember. Although, there is little I care to remember now. I have remembered too much.

 

“Yes, Chapter Master, but I am not worthy of it” My words are weak now. Discussion is not like command, and I am a warrior, not an iterator. And inside, there is conflict. I am being given the power to tear the traitors asunder, even long after I'm gone, but I do not know if I have the will to tame it. He shakes his head, and puts his arm on my shoulder.

 

“You are far more venerable than any Astartes in this Chapter, Caphon. You deserve to be Chapter Master, far more than I do” He watches me as my eyes divert from him to the skull on my helm. A black face in a sea of white. My face. He squeezes my shoulder, it is a gentle touch, and my eyes dart back to his.

 

“Caphon, you may think that they have broken you,” He is firm with me, scolding my reluctance. My pain. My fear. Bickering brothers, “but you have risen above that, and forged yourself into something even greater.” Greater? I am nothing. A black face in a sea of white. “You have had your hand in cleansing the galaxy. You have fought alongside Roboute Gulliman himself. You have been given time to live through the greatest turmoil the galaxy has ever seen, and now it is time for you to lead the next generation of Astartes.”

 

“Thank you, Chapter Master. I will think on this.” The smile I give is forced as I turn and leave the white room. My steps comfort me. I am not dead.

 

“You have time yet, Caphon. Consider everything you can give back to the Imperium of Man. For Gulliman and for the Emperor.” The words chase after me, and I respond, though I do not know if it is only in my mind, or a whisper so soft not even he could hear it,

 

“I will. Chapter Master.”

 

In my quarters, there is white like the room, and it is bright, but there is nothing keeping me from remembrance. For me, there is nothing in the galaxy greater than this decision. The Great Scouring is over. And yet, in my mind it never ends. I close my eyes, and then the memories come.

 

We were neophytes, in the shipyards of Calth, when below us, the world was illuminated in unnatural, flashing lights. From the observation decks, we saw everything. These were traitors. Kin who chose a different path, and led a war against their brothers. Traitors fighting to keep us from saving the Emperor. Terra. Humanity itself. And we were powerless because we were neophytes.

 

When power came to me then, I embraced it. In my service, regal blue was soon bathed in red. The Great Scouring was a reclamation. Treachery paid in blood for all the blood spilled. Lives for all the lives taken. Everything for the Emperor, forever bound to the Golden Throne. Ultramarines. We conquered back the galaxy, but it would never be the same.

 

Even after, when we were divided, the blood toll did not end. It would never end, not until every traitor had paid for the destruction they have caused. Blood stained white all the same. Never mine. Always theirs. I held them in their cage. We were the watchers of the Eye, and I thought that would be my station until the blood toll was paid, or I could no longer collect it.

 

I will never forgive them. I will never forget their betrayal. Never forgive. Never forget. These thoughts race through my mind. My hands are trembling. My eyes are shut tight to hold back tears that should never be, and when I open them, I stare into the face of death, printed by my hand on my helm. My face.

 

This was the face of rebirth. It has been mine since Calth. It was mine through the Great Scouring. It will be mine when I'm finally dead. This is the mark that pushed them from reality and shut them away into the Eye of Terror. This is the mark that will bind my Astartes to me. Everything they are. And nothing at all.

[Donkey Kong]

Is the lack of comments a signal of "good job" or "this is boring" ?

 

Anyway, for the IA,

 

I think it might be MISS, but how would it sound if I added a few sentences about how techmarines infrequently modify tank engines to keep up with the Executor's fast paced combat doctrine (ala Blood Angels Lucifer engines)?

 

For lack of better things to do, I think I'll work on some of the characters (a few of which play an important part in the Perditia Campaign which I hope to revive with the permission to use the Arctic Lions, Infinity Knights, and Warriors Eternal from their respective creators, of course).

 

These are all the characters named so far. Bolded are the characters who I hope to expand on.

 

Chapter Master Caphon Derii

Chapter Master Lucil Tobulo (as First Captain)

Chapter Champion Astos Narrik

Second Captain Thussaud

Third Captain Tomaj Barbari

Third Captain Chevo Quorra (as Senior Sergeant)

Fourth Captain Rocha Filo

Master of Sanctity Miguelo

Veteran Sergeant Pantilimon

Brother Roux (Assault Cannon/Power Fist) (Terminator Squad Pantilimon)

Brother Nickolo (Terminator Squad Pantilimon)

Brother Tryphe (Terminator Squad Pantilimon)

Veteran Sergeant Balthamo

Brother (Terminator Squad Balthamo)

Brother Moik (Terminator Squad Balthamo)

Brother Laffitti (Terminator Squad Balthamo)

Brother Barssaud (Terminator Squad Balthamo)

Veteran Sergeant Jackobi

Brother Juno Issaik (Deathwatch Devastator)

Brother Orodo Monssaud (Deathwatch Tactical)

 

The two Terminator squads will be characterized eventually for things like Space Hulk and the train mission for Perditia.

 

If there's any chapter character at this point, it's probably Rocha Filo. It's odd, because when I started the Chapter, the character was originally Thussaud.

 

At the time of the Campaign, roughly 700.M41, Filo is the youngest Captain in the Chapter. He has served under both Tobulo and Thussaud while in the First Company, and has become the Chapter's protégé, the model for what all Executors should aspire to. As would be expected, this has generated a fair amount of infamy within the Chapter, and has Captains on both sides advocating Filo's push towards a more pro humanity focus instead of Derii's lasting nihilism, and those hoping to continue the Scouring.

 

It's an issue of methods rather than means. Executors all want to keep fighting the Great Scouring and push traitors down wherever the pop up. However, as the Chapter now acts, it acts without any real focus beyond the reclamation and destruction of the war that followed the Horus Heresy. Filo's goals, along with Thussaud's and Tobulo's are to revive the spirit of the Great Crusade in the Chapter, the ideal that humanity will walk out into the stars, and the Astartes will be by their side. It's not just about making the traitors pay anymore, it's about fighting for the Imperium.

 

This flux of emotion is spreading throughout the Chapter in more captains than just the three. It is stemming from the increase in Chapter Keep worlds, the recruits that come into the Chapter, the cultures they bring with them. It's not just Uft'ni anymore, it's worlds that were also touched by heresy, that influenced the Chapter enough to earn the right to give them children to make into astartes. These are the worlds which survived the Scouring or their own purges, which show that the event is over and the Chapter has done good even though it never ended for Derii, never ended in his teachings, and never even crossed anyone's mind when the litanies of hate fueled the Second Scouring.

 

Filo cannot be talked about alone, though. He is tied to two other characters, Narrik and Tobulo. All three fall into the category of being stereotypical Uft'ni. Out of their armor, the three are neigh indistinguishable, set apart more my mannerisms than appearance. First Captain Tobulo, soon to be Chapter Master, fostered Filo's views on the purpose of the astartes. Along with Thussaud, the two mentored many veterans, grooming them to continue to spread of an ideal in an otherwise fatalistic and vengeful Chapter.

 

Narrik is everything that Filo is not, and embodies the worst of the astartes and Derii's teachings. Barely a century older than him, Narrik proved to be impossible for Thussaud or Tobulo to teach. Nihilistic and self serving, Narrik sought respect in command, but was limited to holding the position of Chapter Champion, due to his stubbornness. However, it is a rank he deserves as one of the single greatest living warriors in the Chapter, if not its entire history.

 

Much to my own amusement, I imagine many outsiders who speak with Filo encountering Narrik and being absolutely bewildered by what they believe to be Filo's sudden change in character. Hard to distinguish in power armor due to Filo's Captain honors and Narrik's self given ones, the only piece that sets the two apart aside from the greater points of Narrik's embellishments is the Captain helm that Filo wears.

 

More ironic still is the face that each wears. Before taking up the Captain helm, Filo wore a daemonic skull, celebrating his victories against many otherworldly foes. Narrik's face has never changed from the human skull that was given to him upon his initiation into the Chapter, a symbol that he has never met a worthy foe. Monstrous faced Filo, the humanitarian, and human faced Narrik, the arrogant are quite simply too much to not enjoy.

 

I do wonder what would happen if someone were to meet Narrik first...

[Donkey Kong]

I feel like I'm talking to a wall .

 

Okay, Wall. It's high time I've continued with my characters. One of the Captains, or rather the only other one I've bothered to name, however poor that name may be, that has stuck out has been Tomaj Barbari. And he's stuck out a lot, in fact at one point he was more of an attack dog than Narrik. This was also an old time, perhaps two or three threads ago, when the Chapter was still called the Death Faces, and the Death Faces had a bull like hatred for the color blue. This caused many problems with the Chapter Librarium, whose members were periodically charged by passing neophytes who couldn't stand the color despite a majority of them coming from a world covered in water. I imagine many comparisons to lemmings, but I digress. Ace Debonair envisioned him as fairly tribal, similar to, if anyone, Tai from the Gears of War series. Personally, I've never seen Barbari as Tai or Tai like, so I'll ignore that ... mostly.

 

Personally, I believe that Barbari embodies the spiritual aspects of the Chapter. I don't see him as being particularly nihilistic, but certainly more careless, detached, and fun loving, and by fun I mean murderous spree. Barbari has been the only character I've ever seen as falling into the category of natural leader. There's Tobulo and Thussaud, both lead with experience. There's Filo, he leads with fostered emotion and beliefs in the Chapter. And then there's Barbari. And Barbari leads with spirit. He doesn't have Narrik's high and mighty composure, he doesn't have the calm demeanor that Tobulo or Thussaud do. He's more or less like Dan Abnett's Colm Corbec, minus the old manliness and plus venerable astartes-ness, in addition with the aforementioned blood lust that only the Executors can really claim.

 

I mean, what other Chapter was founded by an astartes who never let go of a counterattack that ended nearly a millennium before the Chapter was founded. And when I say never let go, I am saying that Derii was probably as detached and single minded as any living thing more complex than bacteria could be. Kill heretics. Kill Heretics! KILL HERETICS! I tried getting that through in the story, y'see Wall, but since you can't speak and since you're the only one here besides me I don't know if I succeeded. Sure, everyone else has their litanies of hate and all that, doesn't matter. Their first home world bruised itself blue (see, Wall, it's a pun because water) to save itself. Derii stopped here to rest after crusading for however long, decided to order the construction of the keep, and then kept going.

 

There's always that line that stuck with me about how Astartes are all really just children, and considering how they're raised, it's no real wonder. I mean, I doubt neophytes are really shown any love. Sure, there may be some kind of nanny servitor somewhere, but I doubt getting tucked in by the creepy lady with the lobotomy makes for much of a maternal replacement. So Narrik is the selfish one who thinks that everyone should listen to him despite being younger and stupider than most of the bigger boys, and whose idea of a good time circulates around "Watch me kick sand in your face, praise me more, and isn't making me look good fun!"

 

Meanwhile, Barbari is the little hooligan swinging from the monkey bars, climbing up the tube slide, doing hand stands from the highest possible point, and jumping off because he can. Seriously. There's always that little kid who imagines he's superman. Guess what? Barbari is a little kid who is superman. And he loves it. So, everyone says that Barbari is cool, and they ignore Narrik because he's a ponce, and hang out with Barbari because he's a laugh. All the while, Barbari is doing all of these things without any real regard for his safety because: 1. He's freaking superman. And 2. He's got that inherent nihilistic attitude that absolutely nothing matters anyway besides being superman and doing superman things, so why not enjoy being superman?

 

Tobulo and Thussaud are both older boys, and Filo thinks that hanging out with the older boys is cool and he wants to be just like them so he follows them around and they don't mind because he doesn't get in the way and is actually learning from them. I don't know whether it's cute or boring, or if anything with intentionally induced gigantism to create super human warriors with the ability to eat brains to learn, spit acid, and digest everything could be either of those things. I swear, my first IA about the Rhinox (yes, the Warhammer Fantasy furry rhinos) Chapter was pretty spot on with a theme on mountain goats and, well, rhinoxes. Fine, rhinoxes and goats can't do the first two, but I've yet to meet a goat that wouldn't eat anything. Unfortunately, I base this on petting zoo goats which eat pellets and small, unattended children.

 

Chevo Quorra is basically Filo for the Time of Ending. Barbari dies in the Perditia Campaign fighting whatever because it doesn't matter right now, and all that matters is that Barbari died killing them harder than they finally managed to kill him. And he still loved it. Quorra is another rising little star, kind of like how Thussaud took Filo under his wing, Filo takes Quorra. And yes, I know Quorra's name means Heart. I'm bad at names. My children will hate me for whatever names they have in the end. I know they will. So, he's another little boy who wants to hang out with the big boys because the big boys are cooler than the older boy whose still younger than the big boys but acts like he's cooler than the big boys when he should very well know he isn't. I don't know, someone probably likes Narrik because if they didn't Narrik would kill them where they stood. It's a rather funny attitude that children (or astartes) develop when nothing really matters. Whatever, Quorra was at Perditia, he fought, he killed stuff, he didn't die and went on to replace Barbari as Third Captain. And the Chapter was worse off for it because superman was now dead, never to climb the jungle gym again.

 

In summary, Master of Sanctity (MoS) Miguelo (MoSM?), whatever, I'll call him MoSM for now. Yes, his name is based on the lizard fellow from Final Fantasy XII. I liked Final Fantasy XII. If I ever model Miguelo, his death mask (?) will be based on a Mk. 6 helmet and that skull off of Colonel Straken's belt. The whatever landshark. It reminds me of a crocodile. I was going to name MoSM Modile before realizing that I subconsciously wanted to use that helmet and Modile with the Crocodile mask wouldn't make any sense. I don't see why that stopped me, seeing as how stupidity has never stopped me before (can't you tell from the attention seeking rant?), but it did. So, MoSM was born. Yeah, I just realized that wasn't my summary at all. MoSM's creation has more to do with Helsreach than anything else. Sure, I've always like Ulrik's background and model (even if it is extremely dated), but there needs to be a driving force behind the Chapter's contempt. Funnily enough, I guess there needs to be a drive behind the nihilism too. "Listen to me while I preach to you on why nothing matters, but you must fight anyway regardless of anything for the good of humanity which may or may not matter depending on how much you care right now, but you shouldn't care at all because that shouldn't matter to you! Follow Tomaj's example and go kill things because you can! They're nothing, and you're nothing, so it should be like a clash between dark matter, creating an explosion that will engulf the galaxy and absorb everything in a massive hole of nothingness (oxymoron, I think)!" Miguelo plays the role of spiritual leader and recruiter. And if lore is anything to go by, he's also frequently yelling at whatever it is has his attention at the time or acting cold and indifferent.

 

Juno Issaik and Orodo Monssaud are two Deathwatch veterans recruited back into Inquisitorial service during the Perditia Campaign. Their importance doesn't extend far beyond that, they're Chapter veterans, black spots. Both wear the daemonic skull faces they've earned, and I'm sure it scares the hell out of everyone on every side of the conflict. Past this, the two play as sort of foils to one another. Both follow the nihilism inherent in the Chapter, Issaik just wants to blow everything up, and Monssaud really can't be bothered to care for more than the success of the missions they're assigned. To reflect this, Issaik is loaded with everything from a combat shotgun to the Executor's standard cutlass. His primary weapon is his heavy bolter which he's eager enough to fire at anything that moves. Monssaud has a standard bolter. Both have the Executor pistol sword, but I'm sure that Issaik is more fond of it than the heavy bolter he lugs around. Actually, I'm not sure, Issaik just loves explosions too much either way to care what exactly is causing them, or what's being blown up, or what those giblits are on his armor.

 

Please comment. Also, this jacket's kind of itchy, and I can't move my arms, can you loosen the belts a little? Oh yeah, and the foam on the walls is wet again. From the blood leaking out of my skull.

[Captain Juan Juarez]

I've read snippets of all the posts and I'll happily give the whole some consideration.

 

But.. Right now I think you're :(

 

 

:P

[Heru]

Damn it CJJ! You weren't supposed to respond to him!!! You've ruined the whole plot!

 

:: Batters CJJ with a spinal flail ::

 

KHK stop talking to my Wall! I didn't say you could steal the Wall from my blog!!

 

:: Batters KHK with a spinal flail ::

[Captain Juan Juarez]

Once you get to MoSM, I get bored.

 

The others have well developed - for this stage - characters the differentiate them, but for MoSM and the DW Veterans I just get the feeling of "Same animal, different spots".

 

The story is good, interesting even, but is in dire need of polish.

[Donkey Kong]

But.. Right now I think you're :D

 

That's a pretty accurate assessment.

 

KHK stop talking to my Wall! I didn't say you could steal the Wall from my blog!!

 

I've put my hard work, blood, and sweat into this wall! It's mine!

 

Once you get to MoSM, I get bored.

 

The others have well developed - for this stage - characters the differentiate them, but for MoSM and the DW Veterans I just get the feeling of "Same animal, different spots".

 

The story is good, interesting even, but is in dire need of polish.

 

I started really rambling with those three characters. What aspects make them too similar to one another or other characters, aside from Miguelo being a Grimaldus Ulrik hybrid? Any points in the story you'd say are particularly rough?

[Captain Juan Juarez]

But.. Right now I think you're ;)

 

That's a pretty accurate assessment.

 

People wonder why I get so angry when I play on Live with my 360.. It's solely due to the fact that doing that means I don't actually kill a real person... ;)

 

Once you get to MoSM, I get bored.

 

The others have well developed - for this stage - characters the differentiate them, but for MoSM and the DW Veterans I just get the feeling of "Same animal, different spots".

 

The story is good, interesting even, but is in dire need of polish.

 

I started really rambling with those three characters. What aspects make them too similar to one another or other characters, aside from Miguelo being a Grimaldus Ulrik hybrid? Any points in the story you'd say are particularly rough?

 

I just get the feeling with MoSM that he is there purely to progress the plot of the Chapter - in this case its character.

 

With the Veterans, it's simply that you haven't given them character beyond a certain point because of how you view their importance to the Chapters history as a whole.

 

Polishing in terms of punctuation, or lack there of, mainly.

[Donkey Kong]

There isn't much to say about Miguelo, or any chaplain really. They're zealous. That's it.

 

Issaik and Monssaud are going to be bigger in their own series of stories that follow their experiences in the Deathwatch. I actually imagine it to be a little more hectic since they are being inducted without much beforehand, their equipment isn't particularly specialized, and they're working alongside an Arctic Lion, Infinity Knight, and Warrior Eternal. Conflicts will be plenty, and I'm not just talking about Issaik blowing up half of what can effectively be called a cross between Cloud City and Citadel Station.

 

I made some progress and edits to the story.

 

I was born into an age when giants fell, a time when an empire was brought to its knees by the very men who built it. I have lived through the death and rebirth of humanity. I have survived the Great Scouring, and I have led warriors against the traitors who dismantled an empire so that it could never be rebuilt, even in a million lifetimes. I am an Astartes, and I am nothing.

 

But, I am not dead. Yet.

 

 

Edited February 11, 2011 by KingHongKong

[Captain Juan Juarez]

Edit: Edits made to the story from CJJ's suggestions.

 

Disclaimer: The above is not a way to blame me if everything is rubbish ;)

[Donkey Kong]

Disclaimer: The above is not a way to blame me if everything is rubbish ;)

 

Don't worry. I didn't take enough of your suggestions to ruin my story ;) .

[Captain Juan Juarez]

Disclaimer: The above is not a way to blame me if everything is rubbish ;)

 

Don't worry. I didn't take enough of your suggestions to ruin my story ;) .

 

Ooooo.. Thats harsh.

 

;)

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

Ooooo.. Thats harsh.

 

That, was pure gold. ;)

[Donkey Kong]

That, was pure gold. :)

 

The story or me being snarky?

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

I've skimmed the story and I'll post something more constructive when it's not 5am.

 

*edit* Not that it's bad, just something more constructive than a one-line post. :)

 

The snarkyness was just wonderful though and brought a smile to my rather tired face. ;)

Edited February 12, 2011 by Grey Hunter Ydalir

[Captain Juan Juarez]

The snarkyness was just wonderful though and brought a smile to my rather tired face. ;)

 

And this is why I stopped helping people in real life - other than I drove all my friends away, of course :)

[Heru]

The snarkyness was just wonderful though and brought a smile to my rather tired face. :P

 

And this is why I stopped helping people in real life - other than I drove all my friends away, of course :lol:

Could also be related to the fact that everyone you know is a cannibal, and your version of deodorant is hot sauce...

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

Ok I'm back and less sleep-deprived, though somewhat addled by work tiredness and a couple of beers.

 

(Is the Liber turning to the drink now? First Octy, then Renatus and now... me?)

 

Only thing I could really pick on was the one single typo I found.

 

In my quarters, there is white like

 

I assume you meant 'light'.

 

The only criticism I can give is that he spends a lot of time being defeatist or feeling sorry for himself (justifiably I'm sure given his experiences) and there's no real 'crescendo', which I felt the story was building towards. Maybe it's just me and perhaps if I re-read I'll rescind this remark but for now that's the feeling I get.

 

It felt like he was searching through himself to find the anger and rage that would drive him to accept the promotion and just when he found it the story ended without any sort of fulfillment within the discovery of the new and more powerful emotion. My first thought was of the Soprano's final episode where they even ended in the middle of a conversation.

 

 

However, that said, I like the story a lot. It's well written and gives a lot more depth to the wrongly (to my mind at least) stereotyped, typical cardboard macho cut out that they have broadly become. A big thumbs up from me! ;)

[Donkey Kong]

Much appreciated GHY. He's supposed to sound more doubtful than mourning, but it's more a placement of purpose. Derii considers himself to be nothing more than an executioner. It's supposed to end on that sort of note, you know what he intends on doing, but any suggestions to improve it would be more than welcome. I've edited it a little more.

 

One thing that I'm thinking of now that I didn't really touch on in Caphon's remembrance is that he never took part in the Great Crusade. Imagine that. Caphon was raised with the hope of expanding the Imperium like the Astartes that came before him. When the time comes for him to join the ranks of these supermen, Caphon is plunged head first into a galactic civil war. Caphon has never built. Caphon has only destroyed.

 

I was born into an age when giants fell, a time when an empire was brought to its knees by the very men who built it. I have lived through the second great death and rebirth of humanity. I have survived the Great Scouring, and I have led warriors against the traitors who dismantled an empire so that it could never be rebuilt, even in a million lifetimes. I am an Astartes, and I am nothing.

 

But, I am not dead. Yet.

 

“Caphon” The single word, my name, brings me back to reality as memories fade into nothingness. The room I'm in is bright, draped in the clean white livery that has become my own since the end of the Great Scouring, the Second Founding, and dawn of a new era. The walls are blank. Fitting, I think, but I chase the thought away. Things are still the same, and there is no new start, no clean slate.

 

The Chapter Master is kind to me. He is patient, waiting for my attention to leave his offer, the offer the High Lords of Terra have given the Chapter, and my lingering memories, and return to him. I do not know how long he has waited, and I am guilty for wasting his time. I look from the blue eagle behind him, where I have lost myself, to his face. He smiles, and continues. I sit and listen.

 

“This is a great honor, Brother.” Brother. It is a word I always hear, always embraced by my kin, but brotherhood has never comforted me. Not since the Heresy. Not since Calth. The Chapter Master is fair to me with those words. I am several centuries his senior, though neither of our bodies would show it, and I doubt they ever will. I nod. I understand the opportunity presented to me, but I am still reluctant to take it.

 

Sergeant Derii. That has always been my place. I have never left it since the Second Founding. Always Sergeant, never Captain, never Chapter Master, though I have lived and served under more captains and chapter masters than I care to remember, in both blue and white. Although, there is little I care to remember now. I have remembered too much already. If only I could forget, but I don't, and part of me never wants to.

 

“Yes, Chapter Master, but I am not worthy of it” My words are weak now. I am a warrior, not an iterator. And inside, I am conflicted. I am being given the power to tear the Eye of Terror asunder, and purge its denizens from this dimension and all others, with Astartes prepared to complete my work even long after I'm gone, but I do not know if I have the will or the presence to tame it. He shakes his head, and puts his arm on my shoulder.

 

“You are far more worthy than any Astartes in this Chapter, Caphon. You deserve to be Chapter Master, far more than I. This is your opportunity to do something more.” He watches me as my eyes divert from him, back to the blue eagle. It envelops me and I begin to lose myself in its regal color. He squeezes my shoulder, it is a gentle touch, and my eyes dart back to his.

 

“Caphon, you may think that they have broken you,” He is firm with me, scolding my reluctance. My pain. My fear, “but you have risen above that, and forged yourself into something even greater.” Greater? you are nothing. The devilish voice is drowned out by his. “You have had your hand in cleansing the galaxy. You have fought alongside Lord Roboute Gulliman himself. You have lived through the greatest turmoil the galaxy has ever seen, and will ever see again, and now it is time for you to lead the next generation of Astartes.”

 

Me? The voice whines, you are no chapter master, you are no leader. I smother its voice with my own. “Thank you, Chapter Master. I will think on this.” The smile I give is forced as I rise and turn to leave the white room. I can think on this alone. I need to think on this alone. My steps comfort me. I am not dead, but I am still nothing.

 

“You have time yet, Caphon. Consider everything you can give back to the Imperium of Man. For Gulliman and for the Emperor.”

 

For Gulliman. For the Emperor. The words chase after me, and I respond, though I do not know if it is only in my mind, or a whisper so soft not even he could hear it,

 

“I will, Chapter Master.”

 

In my quarters, there walls are bright white, but there is nothing keeping me from remembrance. Right here, right now, there is nothing in the galaxy greater than this decision. The Great Scouring is over. Or, so it is said. In my mind it never ends, and it never will. And you never want it to. But, I put that aside and close my eyes, and then the memories come.

 

We were neophytes, in the shipyards of Calth, when below us, the world was illuminated by unnatural flares. From the observation decks, we saw everything. These were traitors. Kin who chose a path to ruin, and led a war against their brothers. Traitors fighting to keep us from saving the Emperor. Terra. Humanity itself. And we were powerless because we were neophytes. I was powerless because I was a neophyte. I was nothing, and in my millennia of service that has never changed.

 

When power came to me then, I embraced it. Regal blue was soon bathed in red. The Great Scouring was a reclamation, and for me it was so much more. It was relief. It was inner peace that could only come from weathering the unbearable storm. Treachery paid in blood for all the blood spilled. Lives for all the lives taken. Everything for the Emperor, forever bound to the Golden Throne. Ultramarines. We conquered back the galaxy, but it would never be the same. The white armor proved it well enough.

 

Even after, when we were divided, the blood toll was not paid. The Great Scouring had whet its apatite, my thirst, and it would never end, not until every traitor had paid for the destruction they had caused. Blood stained white all the same. Never mine. Always theirs. We were the watchers of the Eye, and I thought that would be my station until the blood toll was satisfied, or I could no longer collect it.

 

I will never forgive them. I will never forget their betrayal. Never forgive. Never forget.

 

These thoughts race through my mind. My hands are trembling. My eyes are shut tight to hold back tears that should never exist, and when I open them, I stare into the face of death, printed by my hand on my helm. My face. This was the face of rebirth. It has been mine since Calth. It was mine through the Great Scouring. It will be mine when I'm finally dead. This is the mark that shut them away in the Eye of Terror. I have decided. This is the mark that will bind my Astartes to me. It will embody everything they are. Servants of the Emperor. And nothing at all.

 

And nothing, nothing at all.

Edited February 15, 2011 by KingHongKong

[Ace Debonair]

Neat story, KHK. ;)

 

I couldn't really find anything wrong with it.

In places it seems almost as though Caphon is listening to voices in his head other than his own. It'd be a pretty cruel irony to have those doubts placed in his mind by Chaos.

Or perhaps I'm just reading too much into his pessimistic nature. :devil:

 

One thing that I'm thinking of now that I didn't really touch on in Caphon's remembrance is that he never took part in the Great Crusade. Imagine that. Caphon was raised with the hope of expanding the Imperium like the Astartes that came before him. When the time comes for him to join the ranks of these supermen, Caphon is plunged head first into a galactic civil war. Caphon has never built. Caphon has only destroyed.

I'd add that, only without the supermen line and maybe from the first person. :D

It's certainly a noteworthy point about his career, and one he'd probably be a little sore about.

 

(Is the Liber turning to the drink now? First Octy, then Renatus and now... me?)

I think the Space Wolves have the whole 'drunken forum' thing sewn up. Everyone getting drunk would be infringing on their turf. :lol:

Besides, speaking as the resident straight-edge guy, I don't want to be the designated driver for the whole Liber. :)