EVENT - The Great Crusade

[Nomus Sardauk]

Their leader would be an Ogre shaman who allied himself with the ruinous powers, becoming something like an warp-shaman. He even mutates, gets a second head *omg* as one head would be an incarnation of his brute Ogre heritage and the other an incarnation of his warp powers. As a consequence of that both heads argue very often but when facing an enemy, they unite their different powers to crush their foes. *please make him stop!*

 

Well hello Cho'Gall, didn't expect to see you around here...

[Kelborn]

Well yeah, be is based on Cho'Gall. Correct me if I'm wrong but there is no adequate counterpart for him, or is there one?

So why not using him. ;)

 

Lich King will make use of him as well in his Liber Astartes article about the Twilights Hammer Legion. So I'll use him for our BotL as well. :)

[simison]

It's mentioned throughout the Great Crusade writings that countless minor xenos species are exterminated during the Great Crusade. I see no reason to not include your Ogre race.

[Slips]

Aren't Ogres just Ogryn? The names is already pretty similar :p

[Skalpynock]

Well yeah, be is based on Cho'Gall. Correct me if I'm wrong but there is no adequate counterpart for him, or is there one?

So why not using him.

 

Lich King will make use of him as well in his Liber Astartes article about the Twilights Hammer Legion. So I'll use him for our BotL as well.

If I can get away with almost all my named characters being more or less obscure references to litterature, history, or '70s space-sailor shanties, you can largely get away with a Warcraft reference. I'll try to make a list of my misdeeds, but just know that Captain Nemo and Harlock are hidden in the Void Eagles thread.

Edited December 10, 2015 by Skalpynock

[Kelborn]

@Simison: Thanks. :) This shall be an opportunity for those of you who need an enemy for their Exemplary Battles, etc.

 

@Slipstreams: Space Ogres is the project Namen. They will have their own Namen, culture,etc. :)

[Slips]

Fair enough then!

[Doctor Perils]

How about calling them a derivative of Trolls ? Trolls and Ogres are often seen as pretty similar, and it would give you a name reminiscent of the idea, but distinct from Ogryn.

 

Also, since they are prominent in Nordic Tales, and so are the Jotuns (or Ice Giants), you might be able to give them their very own titans :) Which means you could envision some pretty sweet titan and knight battles.

 

Eldar also have their own titans and knights, and at the time of the Great Crusade, they are in great turmoil, as their fall was barely a millenium ago : they aren't as stagnant as your run of the mill elves or space elves.

[Hesh Kadesh]

This project is about the legions and a few ancillary armies - of which we already have a lot; Solar Auxilia, Imperialis Militia, Knightly Orders, Collegia Titanicus, Naval aspects of the Excertus, and when released by FW, Custodes and Sisters of Silence.

 

Each legion is getting at least 1, if not 2 specific rites of war, a Primarch, And 2-3 units, as well as individual units aded.

 

Xenos. Reference to them shouldn't be a major part of anything. We already have a xeno race which is a major threat to the legions which the Astartes attack (although my personal opinion is that a none reference race of no import shouldn't be used; as opposed to say a collective eldar/exodite alliance). To spend time on anything to simply have Space Ogres by another name, and to have them be 'not Ogryns' is a complete waste.

 

Going to the effort of making them an entire culture that takes longer than a sentence or two is a complete waste. The Manachaean commonwealth, or maybe Agathean, I forget) was noted as having a large complement of weaponised ogres formally used as Mining tools.

 

A feral world used as an ogryn farm to which they are picked up, rudimentarily equipped/sharp things replacing theie limbs, juiced up with aggression limiters lobotomised out, and put in some assault lander and then kicked out intobthe direction of enemy guns like bald wookies could be pretty cool.

 

Bonus points for rescuing a Legion officer at the outset of the heresy. Even more bonus points if they are traitors.

[MikhalLeNoir]

A feral world used as an ogryn farm to which they are picked up, rudimentarily equipped/sharp things replacing theie limbs, juiced up with aggression limiters lobotomised out, and put in some assault lander and then kicked out intobthe direction of enemy guns like bald wookies could be pretty cool.

Uuuuhhhhn. Have to use these for a battle.

 

And Hesh: C'mon, be nice. It was just an idea from Kelborn. Don't shoot sparrows with a bazooka.

Edited December 10, 2015 by MikhalLeNoir

[Hesh Kadesh]

Sorry if it came across that way, it's hard to keep tone running when you're on a phone, it's easier when you can easily scroll back. 

[Kelborn]

Hesh, I totally understand you and I don't take it as an offense. ;)

It's your opinion. As I said earlier, I'm not gonna write an complete article. Just a new key facts to work with on my tablet.

If someone would say: Hey, I would like to use them as I'm missing a threat for my legion, he can use them. Nothing more, nothing less. It is just an offer. :)

 

@Thorn: Space Elves was just a Joker. ;) And yeah, I had something like giants in mind for a battle between them and Titans/ Knights. And maybe I'll give them Ork-slaves or something like that to keep the engines running. ^^

[simison]

 

Well yeah, be is based on Cho'Gall. Correct me if I'm wrong but there is no adequate counterpart for him, or is there one?

So why not using him.

 

Lich King will make use of him as well in his Liber Astartes article about the Twilights Hammer Legion. So I'll use him for our BotL as well.

If I can get away with almost all my named characters being more or less obscure references to litterature, history, or '70s space-sailor shanties, you can largely get away with a Warcraft reference. I'll try to make a list of my misdeeds, but just know that Captain Nemo and Harlock are hidden in the Void Eagles thread.

 

 

I call and raise with Nietzsche, Bismarck, Rommel, Pericles, and Gandhi.

Edited December 11, 2015 by simison

[Hesh Kadesh]

Sweet.

 

And for any D&d /cthulu players, Hennasohn is pretty much old man henderson 40kified.

[simison]

Corporal Haines hit the ground as a new stream of rounds poured into the hill he hid behind. Returning fire with a stream of curse words accompanied by a few las shots, he glanced over his squad. He saw Sergeant Vil go down with great holes in his chest, leaving him with just four more soldiers to hold their position. 

 

Against half of an Ork Waagh! 

 

Next to him cowered trooper Yul. Shivering and with head between legs, the man was muttering, "We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die," over and over. 

 

Haines punched him in the head. "Start shooting! You might live longer if you did your fething job!" 

 

On the other side of Yul, Rolf was reloading his lasrifle. "Haines, sarge is gone! No one's left in command!"

 

"I'm in command, you fething idiot!"

 

Rolf fired a couple of rounds toward the enemy and nearly lost an arm for it. "In that case, I formally suggest that we fall back immediately to a more defensible position."

 

Although he was inclined to agree with Rolf, Haines could hear the green beasts getting closer and closer. Even if they ran now, they wouldn't get more than a few metres before being cut down. "Command ordered us to hold this position, and we're gonna hold it! Now, shut up and kill something!" The grime-covered veteran peeked above his cover, ready to fire. And couldn't help but notice the thirty Orks only twenty seconds from them, coming fast. 

 

"Well, we're fethed." 

 

The words had only a moment to float through the air when thunder boomed from the heavens. Right before Haines' eyes, seven drop pods slammed into the ground, forming a wall between the humans and the Orks. He saw white armor and felt a burst of excitement through him. Then he caught sight of the golden lighting crest on one of the pod doors. He whooped as he jumped to his feet. "Boys, praise the Emperor because those Orks are fethed!"

 

The pod bay burst open and hulking figures in terminator armor marched out, advancing toward the xenos with grace and determination. Each one wielded two of those old Martian rifles. As one, the line of space marines raised their weapons and fired. Red rays of death tore through green, and it was the most beautiful thing Haines had ever seen.

[Slips]

Slowly writing up my own section~~ do do dudodoo

[simison]

Irvin activated his jump pack before the 'Yonics rained the spot with a deluge of stubber rounds, mixed in with a few high-caliber rounds. Sergeant Buwhler led him and his brothers with several Norscan units eagerly giving chase. At the apex of their jump, Irvin peered over the entire battlefield. Somewhere in the center of the cacophony of war stood King Artorus and his elite guard, defying the Emperor to the end even as the II Legion tore at his army. 

 

Hitting the ground with a thud, the assault marines about-faced and opened fire on their pursuing foes, red beams through a few of the mortal warriors. In a mere minute, they'd be surrounded by over three dozen warriors. As advanced as their power armor was, it didn't provide immunity from all blows. Irvin listened as his sergeant's voice reached over the vox. "Enemy units are in position, we're clear."

 

Two seconds pass before the marines' enhanced hearing picked up the distant thunder of artillery. The Norscan barbarians snap fired as they charged towards them. A stub round ricocheted off of Irvin's helmet, coming close to piercing his unprotected cheek. The barbarian shooter didn't have a second chance. Eruptions of fire and shrapnel slaughtered the lightly armored skirmishers. The marines waited forty seconds for the barrage to take its course. When it finished, only a few warriors were still on their feet, bloodied and bruised.

 

They ran.

 

Sergeant Buwhler revved his chainsword. "After them, marines! No survivors!" 

 

[Re-posting here so that the Great Crusade work remains easily organized.]

[Sigismund229]

Til Uprannan!

Nice piece, I like it!

Til Valhall!

[Raktra]

Again, how do I keep missing threads. I wanted to talk about dorky references tooo.

Ah well, I'm here now. Idiot...

[simison]

Better late than never

[Raktra]

*innuendo intensifies*

[Demus Ragnok]

Well, it is the season of giving.

 

First to disembark was Naihab, Champion of the 10th Legion. His terminator armor was lacquered scarlet, trimmed in polished nickel and black opal. The warrior carried a greatsword held high in salute.

The launch deck of the Halcyon Wardens flagship, Elpis, had been converted into a parade ground. Companies of Astartes in formation formed a corridor, bolt guns and blades held at attention.

Three terminators followed Naihab. Each carried a heavy pole axe, the chosen weapon of the Triakonta, honor guard of the primarch Niklaas.

Next came the Iron Brazier, icon of the Fire Keepers Legion. A dish of blackened metal three meters across resting on a base in the shape of twelve kneeling beasts. Their heads horned and jaws fanged. A coal fire danced in the bowl. A legionnaire, his armor ceremonially blacked with soot, guided the brazier by unseen means as it floated on gravitic suspensors.

Behind the Iron Brazier two more Triakonta marched. After them the primarch of the 10th legion himself.

Niklaas was immense, broad shouldered and barrel chested. He dwarfed the warriors near him.

His armor was polished steel plate and brass scale, etched and inlaid with rubies and onyx. From his breastplate rose a high gorget in the shape of the Aquila.

Across his shoulders Niklaas wore a cloak of crimson fur edged with white.

To the primarch's left marched his chief equerry, Djozer. To his right two Astartes carried a casket on long poles. The box was hewn wood with straps and corners of black iron. The lid of the chest was a collage mural of polished bronze, depicting the Emperors’ arrival upon Obsailes.

At the end of the assembled columns of Halcyon Wardens stood the reason for this great procession. Alexandros, Primarch of the Fifth Legion, Warmaster of the Imperium of Man. He stood atop a low dais. To his right stood his equerry Pyrrhicles and the ancient Lord General Bowditch of the Imperial Army. A squad of Myrmidon Terminators stood in a semi circle behind the dais.

As he neared Niklaas made the sign of the Aquila.

The 5th primarch returned the salute. “Welcome brother. You do me great honor.”

“Surely the honor is mine.” Niklaas replied.

“Alexandros my brother, Warmaster of the Imperium by decree of the Emperor, I attend you this day to pledge to your authority the strength of my legion and the forces bound to the 77th Expedition.”

Niklaas gestured and the casket bearers brought their burden forward and placed it on the floor before the two primarchs.

He reached down and touched the lid. At his touch platinum circuits running through the slab came alive. White light coursing through them illuminating the entire surface. The light faded and the burnished metal collapsed in upon itself, folding away to either end of the container. Within the box rested a carved figure. Niklaas lifted the statuette and held it on the palm of his armored hand. Perched atop a globe was a simulacrum of the Imperial Aquila in burnished gold.

“Extend your arm brother.” Niklaas instructed.

The Warmaster extended his right arm. Niklaas touched one of the twinned heads of the statue. The seemingly inert form fluttered it's golden wings, lifted from its place and glided over to Alexandros’ waiting arm.

There was a brief applause from some of those gathered.

“And now if you will Warmaster,” Niklaas gestured the casket aside and took a place beside his brother, “I present to you the commanders of the 77th Expedition.”

First to follow upon the primarch's introduction were the Grand Masters of the Fire Keepers. First came Tachmon, his helm artificed in the shape of a human face with a long beard. He walked with a tall staff in his hand. Next was Ahoth, a massive hammer in his hands. On his right shoulder the skull of a beast with tall spiral horns. Ahoth was followed by Harar carrying a three bladed spear.

High Chaplain Hezekiah came next, his crozius maul in his right hand.

Two dozen Legion officers followed, all in full parade dress. Each saluted the Warmaster before stepping aside to stand at attention with their fellows.

Two Magi of the Mechanicum in russet robes shuffled forward, accompanied by guardian servitors conveyed on pairs of pedrail wheels.

Lord Burl of the Legio Tonarum rode in on an equine automaton of blackened steel. He held a silver sickle in his right hand and a pair of balances in his left.

The High Margrave of House Auroch entered escorted by two immense cyborg bodyguards. Their bodies modified to appear like the man-o-taurs of ancient myth.

An Arch Duke of House Havec attended in burnished silver armor and ochre cloak.

The mortal commanders of the Army regiments attached to the 77th Expedition filed in.

Lord Marshal Gibbs of the Merican Solar Cohort wearing a crimson cloak. An Agha of the Sarmant Silahdars in blue velvet robes, her long hair pinned in a gilded frame atop her head.

A Duke of the Crucian Dynast was carried in on a palanquin adorned in bright colors.

A General of the Obsailan regiments attended in a dull grey uniform and leather cape.

Each made obeisance to the Warmaster.

With the procession complete the gathering moved into a massive banquet hall.

There was much feasting and much drinking of wine. Roles of honor were read. Musicians played. Mortals reenacted battles from both the Vth and Xth legions histories.

Alexandros smiled and clapped often. The giant Niklaas, usually solemn, cracked a smile once.

Later in the evening a train of Xth legion menials entered the hall carrying boxes of various sizes. Of the Emperors’ sons the only rival to mighty Niklaas’ craftsmanship was Daer'dd. Niklaas had spared no effort in putting his ability on display this day. He presented gifts to officers of both legions and even to some mortal commanders. Swords, bolt guns, and pistols all of such fine make as to be without compare. Pauldrons with inbuilt field generators that were proof against all but the most terrible of weapons. Coats of scale armor no blade could pierce but as light as a fine silk tunic.

Then came the final container, a dull iron vault large enough for two Astartes to fit within. Two tech marines guided the box as it floated inches above the floor. Before were the two primarch's stood the tech marines shifted the container so that came to stand on its end. It was taller just than Niklaas himself.

“What's this?” Alexandros asked, eyebrow raised.

“Something I think you'll find to your liking.” Niklaas replied gesturing to the tech marines. With their servo arms the two marines carefully removed the front and back panels of the container.

Within the box rested a form under a linen drape, of humanoid shape, roughy the size of a primarch. Niklaas watched his brother’s reaction. Something beneath the drape had pricked Alexandros’ psychic senses. Niklaas seemed amused by this. “It is entirely unique brother, custom in every way.” The Warmaster reached up and pulled at the linen cover. The cloth fell away.

“I call it the Lorica Praeses.”

It was extraordinary. Bulky and yet sleek at the same time. The heavy cowl common to terminator armor surrounded a helm cast in a serene human visage. Bunched cables connected the helm to the armor's internal workings.

Inlaid in the chest plate was the three ring icon of the Warmaster’s legion in platinum and amethyst and onyx.

“It is a battery, psychically attuned to your mind. As well as armor proof against most weapons.”

Alexandros examined the armor silently.

“The only things that should give you pause are a stupendously powerful psyker or my hammer.”

The two primarch's exchanged a look.

“I think you should try it on brother.” Niklaas commented, clapping the Warmaster on the shoulder.

[simison]

It had only been a few weeks since the Prosecution. Days on end spent poring over legion deployments, communicating with the other members of the War Council, and adapting to his new role as Warmaster. Finally, Alexandros had established his office, completed his transition, and entered into a routine of sorts. With his affairs in order, Alexandros had sought out his brothers, eager to hear their counsel, renew bonds of friendship, and to check his family. Not a day had passed before a personal request came to him from Niklaas, an event which would celebrate Alexandros' promotion and introduce him to the highest heads of the 77th Expeditionary Fleet.

 

Alexandros accepted without second thought.

 

Which led him to the present. Standing on a dais in full military regalia, he held Aegis in his left hand, while the Spear of Terra occupied his right. Crafted by Dear'dd and empowered by the Emperor, the Spear of Terra was Alexandros' badge of office. Xiphos remained in its scabbard on his side, but was swiftly becoming an ornamental weapon, a bridge between his past and present selves. The Spear of Terra hummed with power that always felt like the Emperor was by his side. 

 

With the Emperor's absence, it was a welcomed feeling. 

 

With overt pride, Alexandros watched the procession as Niklaas introduced and presented the finest warriors under his command. Standing at Alexandros' side were two familiar faces, both occupying the border between human and transhuman. 

 

 

[Time to fly, will finish later.]

[simison]

Pyrrhicles waited on his right and was a closer simulacrum of a marine. While Lord General Bowditch, on Alexandros' left, remained a closer cousin to man than transhuman, he had been obliged to endure juvenat treatments and extensive cybernetic enhancements in order to continue serving in the Great Crusade, despite nearing his two-hundredth birthday. The half-ring of Myrmidon behind Alexandros were the real transhumans. Each of them had attained the rank of Citadel, the highest rank within the Order of the Shield. All stood at attention as they were honored by the procession.

 

Once that was concluded, they moved into a banquet hall. Despite Niklaas' infamous dour ways, Alexandros was happy to learn that it didn't affect his ability to throw a good party. Scrumptious dishes, potent wine, and lively music filled the hall. Alexandros cheered when performers reenacted a few of the storied victories their legions had enjoyed. With the presence of Lord General Bowditch, Alexandros was delighted to see one of the reenactments was of Battle IG-88, the first victory Alexandros had won in the name of the Emperor, and the first time he had met Bowditch, long ago when he had been a mere lieutenant. Among other plays, one featured the Zynibak Campaign, one of the rare battles where Alexandros and Niklaas had fought side-by-side.

 

The highlight of the festivities was when Alexandros had achieved his ancient goal to get Niklaas to smile. 

 

At least, that had been the highlight until Niklaas had revealed a secret hand. While their brother Daer'dd was well-known for his superb craftsmanship and generous spirit, Niklaas delivered hundreds of gifts of mastered quality to their sons that rivaled Daer'dd's past exploits. It was the last gift that would prove to be the biggest surprise. 

 

Alexandros watched with naked curiosity as a final box was delivered before the table of honor where he and Niklaas had rested. “What's this?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Something I think you'll find to your liking.” Niklaas replied gesturing to the tech marines. With their servo arms the two marines carefully removed the front and back panels of the container. Within the box rested a form under a linen drape, of humanoid shape, roughly the size of a primarch. To Darshan's surprise, he could feel the touch of the Warp upon it. 

 

Niklaas seemed amused by this. “It is entirely unique, brother, custom in every way.”

 

Hearing the unspoken prompt, the Warmaster walked up to it, reached up, and pulled at the linen cover. The cloth slid away.

 

“I call it the Lorica Praeses.” 
 

It was extraordinary. Bulky and yet sleek at the same time. The heavy cowl common to terminator armor surrounded a helm cast in a serene human visage, evoking the idealised images of man favored by the ancient Grekians. Bunched cables connected the helm to the armor's internal workings. Inlaid in the chest plate was the three ring icon of the Warmaster’s legion in platinum and amethyst and onyx. Alexandros marveled at the intricacies of the armour.

 

“Remember the Qarith? On one of their ocean worlds, deep within the crust was a vein of rare crystals that have a natural affinity for the Warp. My sons were searching for alternate alloys when they made the discovery.They act like a battery and are psychically attuned to your mind. Needless to say, your physical being will enjoy the greatest protection that can be found. The only enemies that should give you pause would be a psyker beyond compare or my hammer," Niklaas explained, a master's pride swelling his voice.

 

The two primarch's exchanged a look.

 
“I think you should try it on, brother.” Niklaas commented, clapping the Warmaster on the shoulder. 

 

Alexandros grinned, "I believe I will, brother."

 

Summoning his serfs, Alexandros held out his arms as his current suit of armour was carefully removed from his body. As this happened, the two Fire Keeper tech marines activated a series of runes which opened the Lorica Praeses to its new owner. Ready, Alexandros stepped forward and into the armour. Working with practiced precision, the tech marines secured the suit, while the Warmaster's serfs watched and learned. With the last seal fixed, Alexandros took a moment to simply feel the terminatour armour enclosed around him. Already he could feel his powers humming with new energy. Darshan closed his eyes and expanded his senses and was shocked to comprehend his new limits. He had always been able to sense the minds within a given system with a modicum of concentration. But now, he could see the bright lights of humans even neighboring systems to his Warp-sight. He returned to the present situation and chuckled at his last discovery. While a space marine was a giant to a mortal man, a terminator was a giant to a space marine.

 

For the first time in his life, Alexandros stood high enough to meet Niklaas' gaze without craning his neck. He laughed. "I am forever indebted to you, Niklaas." 

[Sigismund229]

I finally wrote an exemplary battle for the Crimson Lions!

The Siege of Vrissen

         While the III legion has suffered through many savage and bloody campaigns on the northern fringes of the Imperium, among the most infamous of these is the siege of Vrissen. To this day, the III legion hasn't forgotten this bloody affair and the brothers they lost on the world. 

 

           Located on the outskirts of the Eye of Terror, Vrissen was a world of few resources and even fewer inhabitants. However, at the centre of the world was the Great Labyrinth, built by a near mythical figure known as the Builder King. A masterfully built maze, the Great Labyrinth was an ever changing and ever shifting complex filled with in built defences and traps, making it an ideal defensive point and a living hell for any who attempted to assault it.  However, the foe who the III would face when trying to take this structure was not the descendents of the men who built it. Instead, it was the Eldar, a cabal of whom had taken up residence amidst the labyrinth and were launching raids into the surrounding worlds, seeking to cause suffering and take slaves, with whom they would then vanish back into the webway and the dark city from whence they came.  

 

           It was because of this that the Crimson Lions launched their assault on Vrissen. They had been told by the inhabitants of the border territories of their empire of the nefarious and cruel Eldar who were raiding their worlds and the Crimson Lions had tracked these raiders back to Vrissen. Seeing the labyrinth from orbit and deducing that it was from here that the Eldar were launching their assaults, Myrvallen Dronthar immediately ordered an assault upon the structure, so that he and his marines might put a stop to the Eldar's raids as soon as possible and return to the front lines of the Great Crusades. 

 

           So it was that the Crimson Lions attacked this fortress, easily gaining entrance but then discovering the  true nature of the fortress. Undeterred by this, the Lions kept up their relentless assault through the endless corridors and mazes of the labyrinth, being repeatedly ambushed by the Eldar who resided within. However, the Eldar had underestimated their foe, for each time they struck, the Lions simply formed up shield to shield, creating an impenetrable wall, against which the Eldar threw themselves but to no avail. The only exception to this were the getae, who threw themselves headlong into the Eldar ambushes, glorying in the swirling chaos of close combat and the ability it gave them to both earn glory and to display their fighting skills and, while they inflicted heavy casualties on the Eldar, they suffered heavy losses for their recklessness. 

 

          While each Eldar assault did little to damage the solid wall of the shields presented by the astartes of the III, as the campaign ground on and on, with the astartes of the Crimson Lions seemingly unable to reach the centre of the massive labyrinth, their casualties began to mount, their numbers chipped away at by the Eldar and by the innate defences of the labyrinth. Some brothers even became cut off from their squads and were never heard from again. If they were lucky, they were killed by the Eldar or the defences of the labyrinth. If not, they were dragged off by the Eldar to the dark spires and eternal night of Commorragh. Still the killing dragged on until finally, the Crimson Lions reached the centre of the labyrinth to find that their enemy had vanished, taking with him every trace of his presence, even their dead. 

 

            While a victory for the III, it was an empty one. They had lost hundreds of brothers amidst the twisting paths of the labyrinth over the two months they had been locked in that hell, many of whose gene seed had gone un recovered due to lack of an Alauros to harvest it and at the end of it, they had been unable to annihilate their enemy, who had fled into their webway most likely. So it was, that the warriors of Clan Karakal all took an oath that someday, they would find the dark city to which the cowardly Eldar had fled and destroy it, slaughter its inhabitants, tear down its buildings, leave no stone standing and inscribed the names of all the brothers they had lost onto their armour as a constant reminder of their oath(an oath then taken by every warrior of the III). While they have yet to make good on this oath and sate their need for revenge, the Crimson Lions have not forgotten. Nor have they forgiven.