IA: Gatekeepers chapter

[Stercus]

 

 

Gatekeepers

 

Founding: 18th

Progenitor: Imperial Fists

Homeworld: Unknown

Allegiance: Loyalist

 

Origins

The Gatekeepers chapter are an 18th founding chapter created from the genestock of Rogal Dorn. They have a distinguished, if unremarkable record. The chapter recruit from a variety of worlds, from teeming hiveworlds to feudal backwaters. The current chapter master, Leviticus Trent was born on the frozen deathworld Wealas, and wears the pelt of a great ice-bear he strangled as a neophyte.

 

 

 

Geneseed

 

The Gatekeepers geneseed is derived from that of the Imperial fists chapter, and shares the same flaws as all the sons of Dorn. There are is no apparent additional degradation or mutation in their tithes.

 

 

 

Culture

 

The Gatekeepers are fiercely proud of their roots as scions of the Imperial fist legion. They are dutiful and steadfast, and view themselves firmly as soldiers of the Imperium, rather than individual warriors. They do not hunt for glory or honour, merely to wage the righteous war and destroy the enemies of mankind. The chapter are formidable siege-breakers, using powerful guns to shatter ramparts before striking at close range to overwhelm the defenders. They lack the fury and rage of the Black Templars or Blood Angels, but rather attack with cold methodical precision, each bolter shell and blade-thrust tactically placed and measured.

 

 

Favored weapons:

The chapter favour the simple tools of an Astartes: bolter and blade. More esoteric weapons are used as the situation demands but it is the tactical squads of the Gatekeepers that excel.

 

 

Organization

 

The Gatekeepers follow the codex astartes in most details of organisation and insignia. They recognise the tactical flexibility and resilience that it offers. Their company colours are not displayed on their pauldrons rims, rather they are restricted to the right hand side of the gorget armour at the throat of the marine, and sometimes as part of the squad designation on the right shoulder pad.

 

 

Fleet

 

Battle Barges - the chapter have a single battle barge, which will be named when I can get to my notebook and don't have a sleeping baby on my lap

Strike Cruisers - the chapter has a number of strike cruisers, currently called snoring rugrat, dead leg, and severe cramp.

 

Colour Scheme

A particular quirk of the Gatekeepers chapter is that they eschew the bright armour of other Astartes. Their battle plate is a dull green, businesslike rather than ostentatious, the armour of a humble soldier over that of a glorious knight. To honour their lineage and the blood of Dorn, their pauldrons are a rich regal blue, trimmed in weathered gold.

 

Colours: (images to follow)

 

Standard Colour Scheme

 

 

Veterans Colour Scheme

 

 

Terminator Color Scheme

 

 

Current Status

 

Gatekeepers strikeforce alpha currently on operations in northeastern region of galactic spiral. Led by chapter master Leviticus Trent with elements of the reclusiam and librarium, and field command from captain Agamemnon Trisk of the fourth company, captain Tal Gebron of the seventh, and acting captain Velas Kreyn of the eighth. Current strength of the strikeforce is approximately four hundred marines, and supplemented by extensive armour and fleet assets.

The whereabouts of strikeforces beta and gamma is currently unknown, communication having been lost following an incident during a tactical withdrawal from a tyranid swarm.

 

The battlegroup that strikeforce alpha fights alongside also comprises elements from the Harvesters chapter under chapter master Relgard and from the Sons of Aetius under captain Gallias. Infantry support is provided by the imperial guard of the Kelthorian IX and Fallast 222nd regiments and there are also rumours of an inquisitorial presence in the sector.

 

An encroaching tyranid splinter fleet designated Hymir has wreaked devastation on the nearby systems, and it was in opening skirmishes with this powerful foe that the Gatekeepers took heavy casualties and were forced to retreat. Although this withdrawal was initially in good order, while breaking orbit the Gatekeepers fleet was scattered by the detonation of an unknown device aboard the strike cruiser 'void walker' which destroyed the vessel and disrupted warp translation for the fleet. Sabotage is suspected, although from what source is unknown.

 

The encroaching tyranid fleet must be repulsed, and it falls to chapter master Trent to organise a campaign to push the foul xenos back from the valuable assets in the sector. Other factions have interests in the area, and with skill it may be possible to redirect Hymir into the nearby Tau- held planets or towards the Eldar pirate bases in the surrounding asteroid fields. Let the aliens spend their strength upon each other while the imperium regroups.

[JeffTibbetts]

I think that's a solid start. I literally loled at the names of the strike cruisers. I am eager to see the color schemes and whatnot. 

 

So, as you pointed out, there's really nothing remarkable about them. I don't see this as a bad thing, but of course it would make for good reading to hear a bit about their personality. One thing that struck me is that, unlike many homebrew chapters (mine included) they don't recruit from a particular home world, so there's no direct cultural influence. In fact, I think this could be the hook. The names you chose, clearly very carefully, are really different from each other. I got the sense immediately that Leviticus Trent was from a different culture than Tal Gebron, for instance. You mentioned that they recruit from everything from hives to deathworlds, and that comes through. The fact that the heraldry is so simple means that I can imagine traces of those disparate cultures coming through quite strongly. 

 

For some reason, I'm super intrigued as well by the company colors being on the trim of the gorget. I've never seen that, and it really evokes a sort of modern-day military uniform aesthetic. Pics, man! 

[Stercus]

With the gorget thing, it came about because I wanted to keep the pauldron rims gold for all the marines, just because it really sets off the dark blue, so I needed somewhere else to put the company colour. I was looking at some napoleonic era stuff, and the British redcoats had different colour 'panels' on the front of their uniform, and it kind of stuck.

 

I went with an unremarkable chapter, because I remember reading quite a few IA's where people had gone for really extreme hooks and not really liking them much. My disbelief had been suspended rather to far if you will.

 

My other two chapters are a bit more 'hooky', there'll be more from them later. As well as some pics when I'm not stuck doing this on an iPad.

[JeffTibbetts]

Looking forward to it, man. 

[Sanguine_Knight]

I like these guys... I agree with JT and would like to see a little more about their personality and definitely some pics. Well done so far... Maybe one day we will know if the 'nids were diverted into the realms of the other foul xenos. Two birds with one stone.

[Stercus]

The nids so far are a mechanism to bring together the Gatekeepers with my other two chapters. I'll hopefully put up a few pics early next week. There are some in my gallery, but they're a few months old and don't yet show the new company markings.

Really appreciating you guy's feedback. Hopefully I can keep you interested!

[Stercus]

Ok, just for kicks and giggles, I've been fiddling about on google translate and if I resort to (very rough and crap-awful) Latin, the three strike cruisers are now called Exanimus Crus, Filius Dormis, and Severus Incus.

The names in the first post were too good to lose, but equally not really very grimdark.

Battlebarge according to my notebook is Cor Validus. (means strong heart)

[Stercus]

Gatekeepers

 

Founding: 18th

Progenitor: Imperial Fists

Homeworld: Unknown

Allegiance: Loyalist

 

Origins

The Gatekeepers chapter are an 18th founding chapter created from the genestock of Rogal Dorn. They have a distinguished, if unremarkable record. The chapter recruit from a variety of worlds, from teeming hiveworlds to feudal backwaters. The current chapter master, Leviticus Trent was born on the frozen deathworld Wealas, and wears the pelt of a great ice-bear he strangled as a neophyte.

 

 

 

Geneseed

 

The Gatekeepers geneseed is derived from that of the Imperial fists chapter, and shares the same flaws as all the sons of Dorn. There are is no apparent additional degradation or mutation in their tithes.

 

 

 

Culture

 

The Gatekeepers are fiercely proud of their roots as scions of the Imperial fist legion. They are dutiful and steadfast, and view themselves firmly as soldiers of the Imperium, rather than individual warriors. They do not hunt for glory or honour, merely to wage the righteous war and destroy the enemies of mankind. The chapter are formidable siege-breakers, using powerful guns to shatter ramparts before striking at close range to overwhelm the defenders. They lack the fury and rage of the Black Templars or Blood Angels, but rather attack with cold methodical precision, each bolter shell and blade-thrust tactically placed and measured.

 

 

Favored weapons:

The chapter favour the simple tools of an Astartes: bolter and blade. More esoteric weapons are used as the situation demands but it is the tactical squads of the Gatekeepers that excel.

 

 

Organization

 

The Gatekeepers follow the codex astartes in most details of organisation and insignia. They recognise the tactical flexibility and resilience that it offers. Their company colours are not displayed on their pauldrons rims, rather they are restricted to the right hand side of the gorget armour at the throat of the marine, and sometimes as part of the squad designation on the right shoulder pad.

 

 

Fleet

 

Battle Barges - the chapter have a single battle barge, which will be named when I can get to my notebook and don't have a sleeping baby on my lap

Strike Cruisers - the chapter has a number of strike cruisers, currently called snoring rugrat, dead leg, and severe cramp.

 

Colour Scheme

A particular quirk of the Gatekeepers chapter is that they eschew the bright armour of other Astartes. Their battle plate is a dull green, businesslike rather than ostentatious, the armour of a humble soldier over that of a glorious knight. To honour their lineage and the blood of Dorn, their pauldrons are a rich regal blue, trimmed in weathered gold.

 

Colours: (images to follow)

 

Standard Colour Scheme

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/sm/bpe=455440&bpj=455440&bp=455440&bpc=455440&hdt=455440&hdm=455440&hdl=455440&ey=CE0018&er=455440&pi=455440&nk=63B521&ch=455440&eg=CCCC33&sk=CCCC33&abs=455440&bt=455440&cod=455440&ull=455440&lk=455440&lll=455440&lft=455440&url=455440&rk=455440&lrl=455440&rft=455440&slt=CCCC33&sli=08085A&srt=CCCC33&sri=08085A&ula=455440&lel=455440&lla=455440&lw=455440&lh=455440&ura=455440&rel=455440&rla=455440&rw=455440&rh=455440&bg=FFFFFF&rb=000000&gr=393939&wg=true&lightshade=true&mk7=333333&ti=FFFFFF&lkr2=FFFFFF&blt=000000&/spacemarine.jpg

 

 

Veterans Colour Scheme

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/sm/bpe=455440&bpj=455440&bp=455440&bpc=455440&hdt=455440&hdm=455440&hdl=455440&ey=CE0018&er=455440&pi=455440&nk=455440&ch=455440&eg=CCCC33&sk=CCCC33&abs=455440&bt=455440&cod=455440&ull=455440&lk=455440&lll=455440&lft=455440&url=455440&rk=455440&lrl=455440&rft=455440&slt=CCCC33&sli=08085A&srt=CCCC33&sri=08085A&ula=455440&lel=455440&lla=455440&lw=455440&lh=455440&ura=455440&rel=455440&rla=455440&rw=455440&rh=455440&bg=FFFFFF&rb=000000&gr=393939&wg=true&be=BBBBCC&mk6=true&hse=FFFFFF&aq=true&loin=08085A&mk7=333333&chps=CC0000&veti=FFFFFF&mk6kn=true&cs=000000&frag=393939&krk=393939&pp=000000&/spacemarine.jpg

 

Terminator Color Scheme

http://bolterandchainsword.com/tsms.php?hdt=455440&hdm=455440&hdl=455440&ey=D2223E&er=455440&pi=455440&nk=455440&cht=455440&ch=455440&abs=455440&bt=455440&btd=EFB736&cod=455440&ull=455440&lk=455440&lll=455440&lft=455440&url=455440&rk=455440&lrl=455440&rft=455440&sl=003F70&sli=455440&sr=003F70&sri=455440&ula=455440&lel=455440&lla=455440&lh=455440&ura=455440&rel=455440&rla=455440&rh=455440&eg=EFB736&sk=EFB736&rta=455440&lta=455440&lhd=EFB736&rhd=EFB736&ct=9B8C7B&cts=9B8C7E&camh=455440&camb=888791&cams=455440&caml=D2223E&brc=455440&rb=001522&gr=888791&bg=FFFFFF&

 

Current Status

 

Gatekeepers strikeforce alpha currently on operations in northeastern region of galactic spiral. Led by chapter master Leviticus Trent with elements of the reclusiam and librarium, and field command from captain Agamemnon Trisk of the fourth company, captain Tal Gebron of the seventh, and acting captain Velas Kreyn of the eighth. Current strength of the strikeforce is approximately four hundred marines, and supplemented by extensive armour and fleet assets.

The whereabouts of strikeforces beta and gamma is currently unknown, communication having been lost following an incident during a tactical withdrawal from a tyranid swarm.

 

The battlegroup that strikeforce alpha fights alongside also comprises elements from the Harvesters chapter under chapter master Relgard and from the Sons of Aetius under captain Gallias. Infantry support is provided by the imperial guard of the Kelthorian IX and Fallast 222nd regiments and there are also rumours of an inquisitorial presence in the sector.

 

An encroaching tyranid splinter fleet designated Hymir has wreaked devastation on the nearby systems, and it was in opening skirmishes with this powerful foe that the Gatekeepers took heavy casualties and were forced to retreat. Although this withdrawal was initially in good order, while breaking orbit the Gatekeepers fleet was scattered by the detonation of an unknown device aboard the strike cruiser 'void walker' which destroyed the vessel and disrupted warp translation for the fleet. Sabotage is suspected, although from what source is unknown.

 

The encroaching tyranid fleet must be repulsed, and it falls to chapter master Trent to organise a campaign to push the foul xenos back from the valuable assets in the sector. Other factions have interests in the area, and with skill it may be possible to redirect Hymir into the nearby Tau- held planets or towards the Eldar pirate bases in the surrounding asteroid fields. Let the aliens spend their strength upon each other while the imperium regroups.

[Stercus]

A little fluff now, but not a single Gatekeeper in it.

 

A Steady Hand

 

 

 

Goethe ducked as a sizzling beam of yellow light blasted through his squad, liquefying brother Tumnul and scorching a blackish scar across his gleaming yellow pauldron. He dropped to one knee, snapping off a trio of bolter shells at the ramshackle artillery battery occupying the ridge. His helmet readout indicated two kills, but there were plenty more greenskins to keep the cannons firing. Rolling to the shelter of a still-smoking rhino chassis, he screamed for the remnants of his squad to find cover.

Fulthur and Aldous crouched down beside him, followed in short order by Teras and then Cordain, dragging Lenoras along the ground. Goethe glanced down at the marine's ruined leg, little remaining below the knee but a few shards of splintered ceramite and fast clotting blood.

"We need to reach that artillery. They'll shred the column before the rhinos can unload the seventh. Without tactical support, our flank will be caught and crushed." Goethe unhooked the auspex from it's place at his belt.

"The main greenskin advance is less than two minutes away. Seventh company have broken through the Ork vanguard, but they can't advance under fire from the batteries on this ridge. Lets clear that dugout."

 

Brother Teras unhitched the ammo hopper from his back and passed his heavy bolter to Lenoras. Propping the weapon on the buckled top hatch rim of the wrecked rhino, the injured trooper began a thundering fusillade of fire towards the ridge line. Yelps and sudden wet thuds marked the impact of his fire upon the gretchin crews of the gun battery, and there was a lull in the intensity of the greenskin bombardment as they scuttled for cover. The squad began to advance up the slope, each marine blasting staccato fire from shell-holes or broken hab-walls as their brothers jogged forward, before rushing in turn under the covering shots of the men in front. Small arms fire ricocheted from their gold-hued battle plate, chipping off grey plumes of ceramite dust and flecks of metallic shrapnel. Mercifully, the weigh of fire from Lenoras had prevented the greenskins from utilising their artillery.

Goethe reached the crest of the ridge, lobbing a frag grenade into the nearest crude foxhole. It's dull blast shredded a dozen capering greenskins and stunned the Ork overseer long enough for the sergeant to decapitate the beast with a burst from his bolter. Teras and Cordain made the top next, alternating barks of bolter fire pulping gretchin and clattering off the crude artillery pieces. Fulthur crested the ridge a few yards away, kicking the barrel of a primitive ballistic cannon skywards, jamming its mechanism before shoving his combat blade between the eyes of the Ork crewing it. Finally, Aldous came into view from the next bunker, his bolter empty, and his blade dripping with blackish gore. The remaining Orkish battery crews offered little resistance, falling quickly to burst of bolt shells and frag grenades. Unfortunately, there was little time to savour their success.

 

A guttural roar from below the ridge announced the arrival of the main greenskin force. This was going to get rough. Although his auspex had read the Orkish advance as a coherent unit, in truth it was little more than a screaming, reeking horde. The monstrous aliens strode in packs, smaller scuttling gretchin ferrying ammunition between their larger masters. Ramshackle trukks and wagons belched acrid smoke as they chugged across the shattered city, and towering in the midst of the greenskin army, a vast stomping behemoth raised a multi-barrelled cannon skywards as it swept the horizon with a crackling arcane device flickered with green sparks.

Goethe and his men took what shelter as could be found and reloaded their weapons.

"Load hellfire rounds!" Ordered the sergeant. "We've no chance of keeping them at arm's length, so may as well panic them if we can." Behind them, a thud and the scrape of a dragging limb announced the arrival of Lenoras, using the massive heavy bolter as a crutch he had scaled the ridge to add his weapon to the rest of the squad. Goethe glanced along the thin gold line, observing the grim set of his men's stance. None of them expected to survive the inevitable wave of greenskins, but duty would keep them firing. Unfortunately, the veterans would run out of boltshells long before they ran out of targets.

"The first man to fifty kills will take my pistol." He announced. Cordain unbuckled his cracked helm, grinning as he tossed it to the floor.

"The one you ended that warlock with?" He chuckled. "It's a good weapon. I'll take that before the infantry make the first foxhole."

The first bullets from the onrushing green tide began to zip and ping around them like the initial moments of a hailstorm. Goethe and his men cocked their weapons and took aim.

 

Goethe staggered back, his empty bolter held in front of him, acting as something between a club and a shield, his chainsword spluttering and choking on the slick of black blood that coated it. In front of him stood a new rampart, the carved and cratered corpses of a hundred greenskins slain by the sergeant and his squad piled like bricks in a wall mortared by sticky black ichor. Atop this new edifice stood a bellowing brutish monstrosity, rough beaten metal plates and piston driven mechanisms cladding a ten foot slab of green muscle and malevolence. Fulthur was already dead, blown apart by a crude grenade thrown by an Ork trooper as he blasted its chest open with his bolt pistol. Aldous would soon follow, he lay on his back, one arm missing and his Aquila breastplate and the ribcage beneath torn in half. He couldn't see Lenoras, the wall he'd been defending was obscured by piles of dead orks, and the staccato bark of the heavy bolter had been silent for some time. Teras was missing his shoulder pauldron, its mailed fist crushed by the powerclaw of an Ork leader that lay headless at his feet, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. Cordain levelled his newly-earnt plasma pistol at the beast, but its power cell had long since expired. Goethe exchanged nods with the remainder of his squad. The unspoken soldier's communication between them acknowledging that they had no hope of felling this foul enemy. With a guttural roar, the creature charged.

The beast swatted Cordain aside like an insect, it's powered claw bludgeoning him through the air to thud against a lump of granite wall; he lay still, a trickle of blood running from his nose. Teras' bolter shells pinged and rattled from an invisible barrier, some kind of kinetic force field protecting the xenos monstrosity. Goethe revved the motor in his chainsword, preparing to sell his life in a final attempt to slay the huge Ork. The servos in his power armour bunched and whined as he leapt, straight and true, swinging his blade in an arc that should have connected with the creature's gnarled and fanged head, had it not ceased to exist.

 

The body of the Ork warlord disappeared in a withering hail of firepower. Boltshells tore holes in its flesh as lascannons overwhelmed both energy field and iron-plate armour. Cresting the ridge with a scream of engines came nine rhino transports, their hatches clanking open to disgorge warriors in golden yellow armour, trimmed in the purple of the imperial fists seventh tactical company. A command razorback and a pair of predator tanks accompanied them, beams of laser energy and high velocity shells screaming from their heavy weapon mounts. Taking control of the ridge, the seventh began to push back the green tide with bolter and blade. Goethe and his men had held the line.

 

When the battle was over, Goethe was summoned to the field command post. Captain Teillser of the seventh received him in person, along with two shadowed figures in robes that hung in the shadows at the back of the bunker.

"That was good work today, Goethe. The name sternguard has seldom been more apt. With a single squad you wiped out the greenskin artillery and held off the best part of their army long enough to leave my company with little more than mopping up to do."

"What of the stompa sir?"

"We had enough lascannons to bring it down threefold, but fortunately the ramshackle thing managed to blast apart it's own ammo store before we got to it. Once it went down the rest of the horde didn't have the stomach for much of a fight. We'll have pushed this rabble offworld within weeks. We may even avoid an exterminatus order if their foothold hasn't fully taken. In truth, sergeant, a bigger question for us is what to do with you."

Goethe flushed, unsure of what the captain meant.

"My duty is to the imperium and the fists, captain. As it was yesterday, as it shall be tomorrow."

"I am not questioning your commitment sergeant. In most chapters, a battle record like yours would warrant a captaincy. You have showed again today that you are a skilled battlefield commander and leader of men. Was a command available, it would be yours. It is for this that I have called you here."

 

Teillser motioned for the shadowy figures to come forward. He gestured at the taller figure, a robe of deep red obscuring its features, a whirring click sounding repeatedly from beneath its cowl.

"This is archmagos Krellser of the red priesthood. His companion is adept Lasitorus of the administratum. They came here to offer you a new mission. If you accept, it will be your last as an imperial fist."

"I am to be dispatched on a suicide mission?"

"As an astartes, we are dispatched on a suicide mission every time we deploy. No, sergeant, this is something different."

Lasitorus cut in, his wheedling voice setting Goethe on edge.

"Sergeant, I presume you are aware that each chapter of astartes gives a tithe to the mechanicum?"

"Of course. To ensure our purity."

"Yes, Goethe, but also to replenish and increase the strength of the astartes. As time passes, the stored genestock builds up, and when circumstance or expediency dictate, by the will of the Emperor, a new chapter is created from the tithed geneseed. You are more than a sergeant, Goethe. If a captaincy was vacant in the chapter, no doubt you would fill it admirably but it would be imprudent to waste a soldier of your skill as a mere squad sergeant when a greater purpose has presented itself. A new chapter is being born, Goethe, and if you are willing it will be you who trains them, and leads them into the path of the sons of Dorn."

 

 

I'll be adding more to tie this in. Hope people enjoy it.

[Stercus]

Follow up to fluff piece

 

"Senior sergeant Harpus Goethe, reporting for debrief captain."

Goethe raised his fist to his chest to perform an Aquila salute, his yellow-gold warplate gleaming in the sunlight of the ruin of Prahasis. The campaign to retake the imperial hive world had cost Goethe the bulk of his squad, and now his new mission would begin.

Captain Teillser stepped forward and returned the sergeant's salute. He motioned for his companions to approach. Archmagos Krellser's red robes obscured most of his form, but the sound of clicking mechanisms and the hiss of pistons could be heard as he moved towards the sergeant, two bulky servitors in tow. The tall yet unimposing Administratum adept Lasitorus hung back a little, his skulking manner and wheedling voice still grating upon Goethe.

The captain addressed the crowd below.

"Sergeant Goethe performs a new duty today in the service of Him-on-Earth, a task of onerous weight and huge responsibility. He is to spread the reach of the blood of Dorn, to continue our proud history and lineage. It was the sons of Dorn who held the palace on holy Terra in its darkest days, and in these troubled times we will continue our defiance of those who would threaten our imperium. Our comrade Harpus Goethe will leave us today as an imperial fist, but he will return as our ally in a new chapter, one whose blood we share, and whose ideals he will shape to echo our own. As once we held the walls of Terra, our new brothers will guard the gates of this empire among the stars."

Teillser raised Goethe's arm in his grip, and the assembled imperial fists cheered as one man. The cries of "Goethe!" "Dorn!" "For the Emperor!" echoed through the cold thin air of the ruined city, causing Lasitorus to cringe, his ears ringing. The sound of the cheering marines was soon drowned out however, as glinting in the wintry sunlight, a vast grey landing craft loomed out of the pale sky, its white hot retrojets screaming in protest as it thundered down to its prepared landing zone. As the great craft brought itself ponderously to the ground, the Archmagos of the machine cult and his servitors went to work.

Quietly and with muttered blessings to placate the machine spirits of Goethe's ancient battleplate the tech priest and his minions wielded grinding tools and blasting jets to remove the golden-yellow paint from the Sergeant's armour. Plate by plate the grey ceramite beneath was revealed, its dull sheen reflecting little of the planet's weak daylight. Finally, as the great landing craft settled into it's docking platform and the vast embarkation ramps descended, Goethe stood stock still, as unmoving as the granite that shared his armour's hue. Only his left shoulder pauldron remained to show his heritage as an imperial fist, its golden yellow shining against the dull ceramite around it.

From the embarkation ramp marched a hundred astartes, their mark VII plate matching his own unadorned ceramite grey. Goethe stepped to the edge of the landing platform and spoke clearly, his voice carrying well in the clear air.

"Astartes! You come here today to begin your life in service to the Imperium. You carry in your veins the blood of these men, these imperial fists, and in your service and your duty you will honour them and the ideals that they fight for. A hundred men you are today, in time to be followed by others, until a new chapter of one thousand souls will follow the will of the emperor. I am Harpus Goethe, and for two hundred years i have served this chapter: From today, I shall serve a new one. Not for us the honoured golden plate reflecting millenia of duty: we stand as dust, blank slate warriors yet to earn our heraldry as soldiers of the emperor. In battles yet to come we will prove our worth and in time I will choose a device to decorate our pauldrons and colours to honour the deeds we will perform, but these things will be bought in the blood of the enemies of the imperium; things earned, not given. We will hold to the ideals of the sons of Dorn, we will fight with courage and honour, we will not yield to the foes of mankind. The walls will stand, the gates will hold. Duty and honour!"

"Duty and honour!" Echoed a hundred voices as the new chapter acknowledged their commander, then the assembled imperial fists took up the cry, both in acceptance of their new brothers and in farewell to an old one.

 

Goethe strode towards the landing craft, Teras, Cordain and Lenoras falling in behind him, their armour similarly stripped to bare ceramite. A small honour guard for a new chapter, but one that would serve for an old sergeant.