++March of the Legions: XVII Completions++

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

March of the Legions

Month 4 Completions: The XVII Legion

http://i.imgur.com/ijoIjQ1.png

Please only leave the five pictures from your completion in the XVII Legion Challenge, and the fluff for you characters. Any other comments or text will be deleted. Thank you.

[Slips]

Interred into a Dreadnought shortly after reuniting of Lorgar and the Imperial Heralds Legion, Brother Amon strove to carry out the Edicts of the Imperial Truth with indefatigable purpose; burning trove after trove of proscribed knowledge upon the Worlds He and his Legion visited during his Tenure in the Ashen Circle.

 

It was during one of these routine assignments that him and his squad - which he commanded - came under sudden attack from Hereteks upon the world of [iussu Imperatoris Redacta]; the traitors having used their Dark Arts to conceal them from the initial waves of the advancing Legion. 

 

Being ill-equipped to handle such a situation, their flamers all but useless against the hardy cybernetics constituting the vast majority of their vaguely humanoid forms and their Axe-Rakes lacking the necessary bite of a Power Axe to punch through their armor, Amon and his brothers were forced to use their Jump Packs to keep the Techno-Monstrosities ever at arms reach.

 

The Hereteks having sprung their trap, spared no expense at ensuring the so-ambushed Ashen Circle would meet their demise at their claws and thus had created a communications black-out in-and-around their chosen hunting grounds of the Liquid-Crystal Data Storage Pillars. Denied any potential reinforcements, it is only by pure luck that Brother Amon and his squad encountered another squad of the Ashen Circle; so vast and sprawling was the cyclopean caverns within which the Pillars were kept.

 

Now doubled in strength, the Ashen Brothers did all they could to lose their pursuers, losing 3 Brothers in the process but, due to their sacrifice, succeeded in giving the survivors enough time to properly regroup and plan for their escape. 

 

Much Nimbler and Agile than their Hunters, Amon and his Brothers used their Jump Packs and their years of experience with them to outsmart and outmaneuver the Hereteks; causing them to wound and even kill each other with their Ancient and Terrible Weapons. It is only by virtue of their status as Astartes that they survived for as long as they did, never faltering nor succumbing to their fate as Mortals surely would have.

 

Over the course of their Four Hour Long cat-and-mouse chase, of the Seventeen remaining, only three were to fall before Amon; One to a Direct Hit from the Vile Weapons of the Hereteks, the other to a Ricochet that would see his Jump Pack Destroyed and the final to a Lack of Fuel. Amon would fall to a Beam Weapon - that would later identified as an ancient precursor to the Darkfire Cannon - that would clip him below the knees and destabilize him enough to cause him to crash. 

 

None, not even Amon, are certain as to why the Hereteks ignored him as they did when they flew over him in pursuit of the remaining survivors. This mistake would be their first and last.

 

Rising on the cauterized stumps of his legs, Brother Amon once again launched himself into the air. Not as a Prey but as a Hunter. So focused upon the prey in front of them were the Hereteks that none ever noticed Amon approaching from behind. It is only when he, with the aid of his Axe-Rake, hooked onto the back of one of the larger Monstrosities and direct its dorsal-mounted Weapon to cut down several of its Grotesque brethren did they realize he was there. By that point, it was too late.

 

Inflamed by zeal and purpose, Brother Amon held on dearly to the back of the creature he rode upon, withstanding lacerating cuts by mechadendrites and crushing blows by servo arms, doing all he could to deviate it off course with the use of his Jump Pack. He would stop these creatures and save his Brethren or die trying.

 

With Amon in their midst sowing confusion and chaos_wink his fellow survivors wasted no time in turning this sudden change into an advantage. Following his example, each marine proceeded to do as he did and straddle their would-be hunters. Each marine, in turn, proceeded to use their jump packs to cause the Hereteks to ram into the Crystalline Pillars over and over again, causing irreparable damage to the Pillars and slowly but surely wearing down the outer layers of armor that protected the more vulnerable systems and non-mechanical parts of the Techno-Monstrosities.

 

After naught but fifteen minutes of relentlessly bashing them into the pillars and the subsequent flaming and hacking apart of their internal structure, all but the Beast Amon lay upon was destroyed. Sensing its imminent destruction, the last Heretek sought to turn the Invaders victory into a Pyrrhic one and let the Marines pile around him at let them hack into his remaining armor. He would take them all with him.

 

It is only by virtue of having had to consume the flesh (what little of it remained) of another Heretek on the surface to find the Vast Cyclopean Chamber within which they now flew that Brother Amon understood what the last remaining beast intended; for along with learning the location of the Pillars, he had learned - if rather rudimentarily - their language.

 

Unbeknownst to the Heretek, now boasting about their eventual destruction at its hands in its native tongue, Amon understood him. So forewarned, he shouted to his Brothers away and launched the beast and himself away from them with the last remaining iota of Jump Pack Fuel and Detonated in what can only be assumed to have been a micro-nuclear explosion.

 

Assumed dead by his Brothers - for what could survive such an explosion? - they immediately departed the caverns to report to high command of the events that had transpired and to reequip themselves for the destruction of the Blasphemous Caverns. Its upon returning to the surface and in the presence of Preatorian in Command that they were greeted by a Grey-Clad Giant with Golden Scripture covering every inch of his skin. The Primarch had been found.

 

Curious about their mission details, Lorgar personally debriefed the survivors. It is during the recounting of the final moments of Brother Amon that his eyes suddenly lit up and ordered all those gathered to return to the Cavernns and proclaimed Amon to yet live. Incredulous but not wanting to disobey their Gene Father, the survivors did as they were ordered to and brought Lorgar and his retinue to the last known location of Amon.

 

Defying all expectations, there they found Amon. Naught but a half-torso and head yet still alive; his armor all but melted away, the beast he slew in ashen piles around him. To the surprise of all gathered, Lorgar took the body into his arms and proclaimed to all those gathered that Brother Amon's survival was due to the Emperors Providence in protecting his greatest servants. So enraptured by Lorgars speech were those in attendance that they failed to realize the implications of his words. All they knew was that Amon, Honored by their Gene Father, would yet serve the Legion.

 

+++++++

 

Depicted here is Venerable Brother-Chaplain Amon. Following his internment in the Sarcophagus of a Dreadnought and subsequent recovery, he quickly became a follower of Lorgars Imperial Cult - for how else could he have survived?

 

However, when the time came for their Betrayal, Lorgar marked (red arm) Amon among those sentenced to die for his unwavering Loyalty to the Imperium and the Emperor. He is seen here, prior to his disappearance, armed with two Dreadnought Power Claws with integrated Heavy Flamers; ever carrying out his original mandate of burning down proscribed, blasphemous and heretical knowledge. His Dreadnought Sarcophagus and Chassis was also among the most embellished of his Legion, owing to the honor personally bestowed upon him by Lorgar, continual service as well as his status of Icon of Faith to the now-renamed Word Bearers Legion.

 

Unlike his fellow legionnaires, Amon decided to keep the Gray of the Heralds as testament to whence they came; lest they forget.

 

[Barabbas Sogalon]

"First I shall burn your shrine while you watch, priest. Then I shall burn you, your brothers, your temple, your flock because duty demands it. And then I shall burn your world because it pleases me. Your false god won't save you."
- Laus Ananias, Yeriko Campaign


Veteran Iconoclast Laus Ananias, XVII Legion, Imperial Heralds

A veteran of Unification, Laus Ananias was recruited into the XVII from the bombed out hives along the Northern Way shortly after the Boruzian Pacification of the region. Merciless and devoted to Imperial Truth while carrying the violent legacy of his once great people, he excelled as an Iconoclast and during his years of service to the Emperor he ensured that the remnants of Old Night ended in both red and green fire. His trusted weapon since the beginning was a flamer he named the Spark of Enlightenment, the bane of countless high priests, zealots and worthless trinkets dedicated to false gods. Ananias earned many battle honours during the Twenty Days of Ash when three neighbouring cities rose up after the Imperial Heralds 1st Chapter executed the local High Confessor and burned down his temple. Leading two squads of hardened Iconoclasts into the largest city, Ananias systematically purged quarter after quarter until he and his men were the only living things left. It was afterwards whispered that his extreme devotion to spreading the Imperial Truth hid a pyromaniacal nature of the worst kind. Laus Ananias fell while storming the Golden Monasteries few months before the rediscovery of Colchis, a bitter blow to the warriors under his command. Teburon Barka, a disillusioned Unification veteran of the VIII Legion, was quoted during the Heresy saying “I remember the one they called Ananias. Good warrior, understood the true potential of flame. Long dead now, but he was of the lucky ones. He never had to experience the corrupting influence of our so called 'Fathers' or witness the downfall of once great Legions.”

Unknown marking on right knee pad. "Diamond Skull" only seen on legionaries from the Northern Hives.

[Atia]

Anaziel the Ascended,

Annunake of the Gal Vorbak, Host of "Pehlzepu", "Helbrute" of the Word Bearers, Ferrus Infernum, Butcher of Armatura, Mahra Gal Dreadnought

First encountered during the Battle of Armatura, the Shadow Crusade which ravaged Ultramar confirmed the existence of this creature and it's kin. It's resembles an early MkIII-Castra Ferrum, but represent a mocking blasphemy of all the Dreadnought once stood for. The flesh of Anaziel, former Terminator Veteran of the Serrated Sun has melded with the metal of the Dreadnought itself so that parts of the machine appear to be made of daemonic flesh. Although his chaotic appereance, it seems that the mind of Anaziel is clear, like his Gal Vorbak brethren. We can only hope that this kind of creatures doesn't start to appear within the other traitor Legions .....

[Ezeriel]

Brother Belon Ji'sahl of the Thrice Dead Stars chapter

While Brother Belon never showed any sign of rising to command in the legion, his fanatical devotion to the new path Lorgar gave the legion couldn't be questioned. He prayed to the Dark Gods, he made sacrifices to them, he slew his brothers and cousins in the name of this new faith.

He was there at the Gates of the Imperial Palace. He saw the battlements crumbling and falling. He saw his foolish cousins standing before the armies of the Warmaster and he saw them bleed and die. And then everything went wrong. The Warmaster lay dead. The legions fractured and messily retreated in all directions, but most went towards the Eye of Terror.

During their flight to the Eye, the remnants of the legion would attack any world that could provide them with supplies. It was during one of these raids that a fleet of loyalist marines caught up them and attacked. All around him the Chapter of the Thrice Dead Stars were being slaughtered. A dreadnaught had almost killed him moments earlier with a shot from its Volkite Culverin, but it had only taken his right arm. It's at this point that Belon began cursing the Warmaster, the Dark Gods and even his Primarch Lorgar. They had all failed him and the legions when it had mattered most. In his rage he tried to assault the dreadnaught that had taken his arm moments before. Clearly this wasn't going to end well for one of them.

Below are pics of the final moments of the charge of Belon.

[Xin Ceithan]

Orok Kursh, Section leader, "Anusyha Kor - The Thrice Born" Siege Breaker Section, Chapter of the Onyx Flame, Legio XVIIth

Pict-capture, believed taken during the Sacking of Armatura. Orok Kursh established himself a capable section leader in the so called "Shadow Crusade" among the Five Hundred Worlds. the Thrice Born increasingly began to utilize arcane and empyrean arts in overcoming loyalist bastions and were reported fighting at the Siege of Terra. Of Orok Kursh`s fate beyond that, no records survive.

[EdT]

[Pict Capture AR/184-13D-116]- Cleromancer Urtu of the XVII Legion, II Company, Consecrated Iron Chapter, formerly Castellax #348762-Delta, “Ignea Sidus” of the 8^th Maniple, Carthage Cohort. Pict captured during final stages of Armatura engagement.  [Rembrancer’s note: The ceremonial inclusion of battle-automata into the Astartes units was not uncommon and had precedent within the XVII. The structural alterations to this Castellax unit (crossref: Latros Sacrum/Brazen Head Myth) indicate that it may have had religious or symbolic significance to the Consecrated Iron Chapter alongside its military utility.]
 
 
Lost in thought, Bel Shadrak walked the halls of the Fidelitas Lex, ignoring the hushed awe his presence provoked in the crew members he passed. One robed adept, weeping with devotion, knelt in supplication before him, hands raised in; he briefly paused, inclined his silver-visored helm and gently touched her head with his massive gauntlet. She cried out in ecstasy; he swept on, the act reminding him of the time he had sparred in the practice cages with Luitpold of the VII and, genuinely curious, had asked him why he styled himself a Templar when he owed the existence of no deity. Luitpold had given no answer save his fist, and the memory made Bel Shadrak smile. I am now a true Templar, he thought, a Paladin of Primordial Truth, taken from the martyred of Isstvan and clothed in the revealed glory of the Octed.
 
Confessor Zuuthusu was waiting at the Gate of Malebolge, his great crozius maul drawn to guard the sanctum within. Seeing Bel Shadrak, his solemn bearded face cracked open into a smile. “Welcome, friend,” he said, clasping the other astartes’ gauntlet in the traditional greeting before standing aside to allow him through, “I shall join you presently, when our congregation is complete.”
 
The Hall of Primordial Truth was a place of dim lighting and quiet contemplation, one of many such places on the Lex set aside for the Paladins. Under the great iron-wrought glyphs of the Octed mounted on the vaulted walls, the Vakrah Jal gathered; some knelt in silent worship, others checking their weaponry or cleaning their armour. A few talked amongst themselves, sharing old stories or discussing the campaign, and Bel Shadrak moved to one of these groups, removing his helm as he went.
 
Gol Kudur glanced upwards at his approach. “We were just discussing the purge, brother,” he remarked, gesturing to the others in the conversation. “We have removed the infidel from the Legion, but when will we remove the reprobate?” He clenched his fist in anger. “It sickens me to tolerate such a disgusting orgy of immoral ambition and greed within our Legion.”
 
Bel Shadrak sighed; this had been a familiar refrain amongst the less patient members of the Chapter. He placed a calming gauntlet on his comrade’s pauldron. “Peace, brother, and have faith, in the Legion, and Aurelian, and the Octed. The eightfold path is a treacherous one, yet it is the nature of the path that the dross is sluiced away and only the pure of heart remain. Our father has already sent the worst to die at Calth. The others will be winnowed away soon enough; many will sully the soil of Armatura with their blood in the coming days, and by the time we topple the throne of Terra only a few will still live.” He raised his left arm to display his wrist-mounted alchemical projector; “And then we shall cleanse the remnants with the jade flame.”
 
Gol Kudur made to respond, but his reply was cut off by the tolling of the great bell. The assembled Paladins fell quiet as its echoes faded away; then Zuuthusu’s voice rang out through the hall.
 
“The Primordial Truth is the light of wisdom that pushes back the darkness of the Anathema!” he proclaimed, crozius raised in benediction. “It is the life-bringer, just as the sun brings life to the world, just as the forest fire fosters new growth in its wake! Flame cleanses, the jade flame even more so.  And is it not written in the Book of Lorgar that all souls will be submitted to fire and molten metal to purify them of wickedness? Goodly souls will pass through unharmed, while the souls of the corrupt will burn in anguish. We of the Vakrah Jal have been passed through the flame, and our souls have been purified.”
 
“So be it!” the astartes bellowed in unison. The Confessor lowered his crozius, and favoured the congregation with a smile.
 
“Brothers! This day, as we prepare to fall upon mighty Armatura, we are uniquely favoured; for Urtu the Cleromancer joins us.”
 
There was a collective intake of breath amongst the Paladins; the Cleromancer was almost legendary amongst their ranks, and seldom emerged from the Command Bridge, where it was said that the Primarch himself consulted him on strategic matters and the course of the War. Zuuthusu turned to the door.
 
“Brother?”
 
There was the dull rhythmic clang of metal on deck plating, and the Cleromancer strode into the room. He towered above the Confessor at his side; purity seals covered the crimson of his massive hunched pauldrons, and a massive copy of the book of Lorgar was proudly bound to his side. A huge, daemon-mouthed bolt-cannon hung inactive on his shoulder, and huge claws whirred as they made endless minute adjustments. Alone of all his brothers within the Chapter of Consecrated Iron, Urtu’s faceplate was not silver but brazen, fashioned in the likeness of the Latros Sacrum. Yet even without the embellishments worked into his form by the Legion’s artificers, there was no mistaking his origins; Bel Shadrak met the emerald gaze of his cyclopean, unblinking eye and shivered in a strange mixture of wonder and unease.
 
Was it an abomination or a miracle, he wondered? He quickly realised it had to be the latter, for only godly power could spontaneously breathe intelligence into a battle automaton, and this could not be regarded in the same way as a machine being constructed to be self-aware. Anything else would be impossible to bear; even after having cast aside the entirety of Imperial Truth, he still felt instinctive revulsion for the concept of Abominable Intelligence.
 
++HAIL THE OCTED, BROTHERS++ the Cleromancer growled in its mechanically modulated voice, its crab-like claws raised like a preacher,  ++MAY THE SONS OF THE URIZEN BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF THE INFIDEL. I KNOW WHAT IS AND WHAT WILL BE. I AM WILLING TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU++
 
There was a long pause, the assembled congregation of Paladins too occupied gazing at the wonder before them to consider its words. Eventually Zuuthusu stepped forward, laughing. “Do not be shy, friends! The Cleromancer is here for catechesis, for he is your channel to the Octed and speaks the revealed Truth. Please, satisfy your curiosity! It is Aurelian’s gift to his favoured sons; do not be ungrateful.”
 
Chastened, the congregation muttered its praises for the opportunity given to them. Presently, a voice came from the congregation; Bel Shadrak turned to see one of the Thurifers move forward. “It is an honour, brother. Might I ask; how has the attack on Calth progressed?”
 
The Cleromancer paused for a second, making a sound like grinding gears. ++SYNTAX ERROR. PLEASE TRY AGAIN++ it blurted.
 
Zuuthusu cleared his throat. “You must ask questions that can be responded to with an affirmative or negative, brother,” he said, gently, “this is how the Gods have given the gift”.
 
The Thurifer bowed his head, checking the settings on his flamer as he thought. “My apologies, brother. I shall ask differently. Has the assault on Calth accomplished the majority of its objectives?”
 
The Cleromancer blurted code, and stepped forward slightly. ++OUTLOOK GOOD++ , it replied.
 
There was a murmur of excitement; several of the Paladins knelt in thankful prayer. Presently, another voice called out. “Is Guilliman dead?”
 
++VERY DOUBTFUL++
 
Bel Shadrak nodded stoically; he was not surprised. Gol Kudur was the next to speak. “Can we trust our cousins in the XII to accomplish their objectives on Armatura?”
 
Several of the Paladins nodded in agreement with the question; it had been a common topic of conversation in the last weeks. The Cleromancer considered for a second; ++AS I SEE IT, YES++
 
The questioning continued for some time; the Paladins asked about military strategy, the course of the war, even regarding theological interpretation of the Book of Lorgar. Occasionally, the Cleromancer would not, or could not answer a question, but for the most part his answers were clear, precise and plausible. Bel Shadrak remained quiet; unlike the others, he could think of nothing to ask. Then something came to him, and he raised his hand.
 
“Cleromancer,” he began, “Will I live to see the Throne of Terra toppled and the false Emperor put to the sword?”
 
The living automata paused at the question for some time, opening and shutting its claws. From time to time a clanking noise emerged from within its hulking body. Finally, it raised its great brazen head and emitted a mechanical blurt as if clearing its throat.
 
++DO NOT COUNT ON IT++

 

[Grotsmasha]

++ Subject: Sergeant Tinaat Bhar ++

++ Status: Loyalist, XVII Legion ++

++ Location: Deceased, Calth ++

++ Time-stamp: =]DATA CORRUPTED[= ++

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Brother Sergeant Tinaat Bhar slowly removed his helm, wiping sweat from his brow. His helm was useless now, his latest encounter having cracked his remaining eye lens. He would need to borrow a new one.

He had been trapped aboard the warship for almost two years, waging a one man war deep within the bowels of the mighty warship. He had caused power failures, airlock malfunctions, jammed coms-traffic, and most recently overheated several power couplings, causing the ships warp drives and Geller Field generators offline for several hours.

His former brothers hunt him ceaselessly, he will not stop until they, or he, are dead. When Argel Tal had returned, changed, from the warp-realspace anomaly, the poison placed into Lorgar’s mind by Erebus and Kor Phaeron had taken root within the Legion wholesale. A purge had been carried out, Lorgar ruthlessly culling any from the XVIIth who did not believe as he wished them to believe. They had come for him in the practice cages, three of his own squad. Tinaat Bhar had killed his would be assassins, and escaped into the depths of the Legion ship.

He knew now that the Legion mustered for Ultramar. He would do what he could for as long as he was able. No ship was unbreakable, not even the Fidelitas Lex.

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[Millicant]

[Combat_Vet]

Brother Azov, Imperial Herald, Iconoclast, Zealot of the Ashen Circle, Word Bearer Veteran

 

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/D8903F58-251D-4406-899E-0CEB5CA25423_zpsawczyesj.jpg

 

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/A5E419A2-053B-42A9-BDAB-867D9CAF4767_zps8uwplvqr.jpg

 

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/599EAEC2-FA15-49E6-A13A-721F5374A380_zpsaoflkh9g.jpg

 

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/C234FBA0-FD1D-40AE-B796-0569757D8A9A_zpsmtkludqq.jpg

 

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/AB50D06F-E418-4ABA-95BE-3B24BBD71026_zpsg0eh7s7y.jpg

 

Bound and dying the legionnaire laughed through broken teeth "what truth do you want Salamander?". The gauntleted fist crashed in again and bone powdered under the impact. "Where have they gone, traitor". But again, laughter was the only response.

 

"This is getting us nowhere" brother Ve'Shek said from the shadowed entrance to the cave, "we have other men to question and this one knows nothing". "No, Raven, he knows something and he will tell us where the fleet has gone".

 

Ribs splintered and Azov grunted as a lung collapsed under the stress, "you know the answers to what you ask" he sputtered through the blood. "Terra will burn as all things burn fool!". His outburst earned him another fist and another spike of pain as more organs ruptured and began to fail. "The truth!" the Salamander shouted into his face, "where has the fleet gone!"

 

"Ah the truth", whispered Azov, "the Imperial Truth. All Gods are false, all prayers are wasted, all men betray, all is ash at the end of days. Yes, all men betray, isn't that so Rav...".

 

Azov's head disappeared in a mist of blood and bone. "This is a waste of time and we have other men to question Salamander".............

[Zujara]

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xvii1_zps9ftzjtuv.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xvii2_zpsu0hkzepm.jpg

 

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http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xvii4_zpsikbg4jj8.jpg

 

http://i1006.photobucket.com/albums/af182/Zujara/Legions/xvii5_zpsazmlyix6.jpg

 

 

Once a Chaplain of the Broken Scythe chapter, Jareth lead infantry into cities the chapter had demolished while preaching the works of Lorgar to inspire his men while they hunted survivors. As the legion fell to the dark gods, Jareth bargained his soul in exchange for more power and became a Diabolist. Rather than preach while he and his men hunt down survivors, he now summons forth daemonic beasts to aid his forces in finding survivors hiding amongst the ruins.

[Der_H]

+ + + SEARCH TERM: [Mar Thaleon_] + + +

+ + + SUBJECT MATTER RESTRICTED - ACCESS LIMITED + + +

+ + +  IDENT: [##########_] + + +

---------------------------------------------------

+ + + IDENT AUTHORISED + + +

+ + + RECORD BEGINS + + +

Legion: XVII

Chapter: Unknown

Company: Unknown

Role: Deamonologist

Status: Excomunicate Traitoris

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Feb_F.jpg

 

Subject Mar Thaleon was first identified as a Tactical marine in the early years of the great crusade. Excelling in weapon drills and close quarters combat he was later registered as serving in a Destroyer unit. Records reveal that, 15 years prior to the outbreak of the Horus Heresy, Mar Thaleon served as the leader of one such squad. Little is recorded after this time until Mar Thaleon’s involvement on Istvaan V. Records reveal that at this stage Mar Thaleon was part of a detachment returning from the [DETAIL REDACTED] system, where he had been tasked with leading a small taskforce to clear a rebel colony.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Feb_L.jpg

 

Eyewitness accounts from survivors, and poorly preserved Pict Capture reconstructions reveal that Mar Thaleon had greatly deviated from traditional combat at this stage.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Feb_R.jpg

 

Data recovered from Raven guard operatives on Istvaan following the dropsite massacre appears to suggest that Thaleon was instrumental in the construction of the pyres documented around the site and what little audio that was recovered is heavily degraded with interference. Witness accounts say that Thaleon’s voice seemed to echo and reverberate in a register much deeper than would be expected of a space marine.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Feb_B.jpg

 

Mar Thaleon’s fate is unknown, however multiple accounts of a combatant matching his description were recorded in various systems during the Age of Darkness that followed.

 

http://i1145.photobucket.com/albums/o501/henrycoll/March%20of%20the%20Legions/Feb_5.jpg