++ March of the Legions: VII Legion ++

[jimbo13]

This will be Captain Sigfried Imhoff, known as the "The Djinn" of the Red Devils

 

http://i.imgur.com/Em0a6a8l.jpg

[Soldier of Dorn]

This will be Captain Sigfried Imhoff, known as the "The Djinn" of the Red Devils

 

http://i.imgur.com/Em0a6a8l.jpg

 

That reminds me... I really get a model for my Praetor together sometime. I've got major components for one of his subordinate Captains on the way right now, but Shield-Commandant Eilings is languishing half-forgotten in some small corner of my brain. We'll just have to fix that, won't we, then. Of course, with that I'd have about 7 different HQ choices to build for my army plus the obligatory special characters and only 5 'standard' infantry built as of yet, so something will have to be done about that. See what you're doing to me, jimbo? You're actually making me plan out productive things, dammit! Just stop! Please! :P

 

Sigfried looks wonderful, brother. Can't wait to see paint. Sorry about the tangent. :D

[jimbo13]

That reminds me... I really get a model for my Praetor together sometime. I've got major components for one of his subordinate Captains on the way right now, but Shield-Commandant Eilings is languishing half-forgotten in some small corner of my brain. We'll just have to fix that, won't we, then. Of course, with that I'd have about 7 different HQ choices to build for my army plus the obligatory special characters and only 5 'standard' infantry built as of yet, so something will have to be done about that. See what you're doing to me, jimbo? You're actually making me plan out productive things, dammit! Just stop! Please!

Sigfried looks wonderful, brother. Can't wait to see paint. Sorry about the tangent.

I'm glad you like him. He has been my favorite commander to model to date. I also have loved the knife forever!!!!! I'm using it as a count as Solarite power gauntlet. Gifted from a XX Legion friend.

ALSO.....

WHAT ABOUT DUTY GOOD SIR!!! YOU SHALL BUILD AND MAKE THINGS AS WELL AS PAINT SAID THINGS. We of the Red Devils don't go about dilly dallying. Part of the reason I made the thread of mine. Keep me honest.

[Soldier of Dorn]

 

WHAT ABOUT DUTY GOOD SIR!!! YOU SHALL BUILD AND MAKE THINGS AS WELL AS PAINT SAID THINGS. We of the Red Devils don't go about dilly dallying. Part of the reason I made the thread of mine. Keep me honest. 

 

Well, unfortunately, school, rations and a bunk to kip on take priority over plastic and resin right now (much as I hate to say it) and I don't have much of a reserve suitable for my dudes. I mean, I would be remiss in my duty if I was unable to serve the Great Crusade due to lack of sustenance and rest, right? :P But it doesn't mean I won't be doing work on the 284th. I Grenadier is going beneath the paintbrush as soon as I have time to make some minor repairs, I've got a little cash set aside for the weekend's model to use as a Vigilator, and a VII Legion Command Set ordered to use for... something. I dunno (well, the Standard Bearer's body is gonna be used for the previously mentioned Captain, but beyond that is unknown.)

[jimbo13]

WHAT ABOUT DUTY GOOD SIR!!! YOU SHALL BUILD AND MAKE THINGS AS WELL AS PAINT SAID THINGS. We of the Red Devils don't go about dilly dallying. Part of the reason I made the thread of mine. Keep me honest.

Well, unfortunately, school, rations and a bunk to kip on take priority over plastic and resin right now (much as I hate to say it) and I don't have much of a reserve suitable for my dudes. I mean, I would be remiss in my duty if I was unable to serve the Great Crusade due to lack of sustenance and rest, right? But it doesn't mean I won't be doing work on the 284th. I Grenadier is going beneath the paintbrush as soon as I have time to make some minor repairs, I've got a little cash set aside for the weekend's model to use as a Vigilator, and a VII Legion Command Set ordered to use for... something. I dunno (well, the Standard Bearer's body is gonna be used for the previously mentioned Captain, but beyond that is unknown.)

I feel ya. Life always comes first. As long as you take part in the great march all shall be forgiven!!!

[Slips]

*finger hovers close to the Airlock Switch*

 

I'll be watching you.

 

[jimbo13]

*finger hovers close to the Airlock Switch*

 

I'll be watching you.

 

Is this for once not directed at me?

[Slips]

That would be telling!

[Soldier of Dorn]

@Slips:

http://i.imgur.com/Quno4ND.jpg

 

I'll make sure to follow all the regs, suh!

[jimbo13]

The Red Devils are always taking new recruits!!!

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Welp... I found that figure I was going to do for this and his right arm, head, and both shoulderpads are missing. No idea what happened, but I guess that's what I get for having such a messy desk.

 

I'm also working on assembling my new robots for the ETL and will not be able to complete my entry at all.

[Flint13]

Gooooood Morning Initiates! Recreation Officer Bauer here. Do you want to be a Templar like me one day?

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/924/RE6Fuu.jpg

 

Of course you do! Crusading in the name of Dorn is Crusading like no other! Plus, just look at me. I'm fethin' jacked.

 

 But there are a few important things to keep in mind as you complete your journey towards full brotherhood. 

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/921/T4qXVM.jpg

 

Unfortunately, we can't be purging the enemies of the Imperium all the time. Despite the amazing advances in murder technology, we have yet to make it instantaneous, so there has to be travel time between warzones! Its important to stay active during transit to and from the battlegrounds. 

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/922/sRiC8d.jpg

 

The Phalanx offers one hundred eighty-seven different Cardiotorium complexes and two hundred thirty-four Weightlifting multi-plazas scattered somewhere among its levels. Or if you're looking to create new and lasting connections you could try going out for one of the many inter-echelon sports leagues! 

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/921/l2bOO2.jpg

 

Also be wary of the disctrations of over eating. The average growing initiate only requires fifteen thousand calories a day. Anything past that poses a threat to the .0034% bodyfat distribution required for adequate induction and Astartes organogenesis. A good initiate always defends his waistline just like he would any battleline!

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/923/RaBSey.jpg

 

Remember initiates, (approved) knowledge is half the battle! The other half is the swift and brutal elimination of all who oppose you with the righteous fires of hatred bred into those of the blood of Dorn!

 

So stay safe and active out there so you can bring the fire! Knight-Paladin, play us out.

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/924/eRJCqf.jpg

 

 

 

Are you ready to purge, Initiates?

Yah!

I can't hear your righteous conviction ...

YAAAAH!

Ooooh, who lives in a fortress way up in the sky?

RO-GAL DO-ORN!

Who is grumpy and bitter and builds walls real high?

RO-GAL DO-ORN!

Who's bright golden armor is hard to miss? 

RO-GAL DO-ORN!

Who's Lord and Master of all of the FISTS?

RO-GAL DO-ORN!

RO-GAL DO-ORN!

RO-GAL DO-OOOOORN!

Do de de do de do do... walls.

[Soldier of Dorn]

What. The. Heck.

...

>ahem<

Errr... interesting story you've got there, Flint. Ummm... yeah. I'll just sidle away now, I guess...

[Slips]

You win Flint.

 

I was expecting something silly. But not this.

 

http://www.reactiongifs.us/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/slow_clap_citizen_kane.gif

[Lord Blackwood]

In Godfrey's mind he saw machines the way an artist saw a canvas  each part a small  contributor to a greater whole.  Long before he had become a marine of the VIIth legion he had spent his  short life in scrapyards staging grounds and on battlefields. Mechanics simply came to him the way it came to many from  his homeworld. It was a key to all things , trade , war , prosperity , even sustaining life.  As he thought of the last bit he looked up at the sleeping ancients that inhabited the great workshop.  Indeed the machine was key to all and yet , he had never grown close to the mechanicum that had trained him in its  use and application.  The metalic clack of spider like mechanical limbs and the keen scent of a flower he could pick out but not name alerted him to  Arch Magos Attira Zeth's presence.  She unlike many of her companions still  seemed to retain some semblance of humanity  in  her face  , though it was mostly an illusion of  advanced bionics carefully hidden and her blonde hair which lightly escaped her hood. When she spoke her voice was quiet contemplating and yet cold  and sharp , tempered by the same wars that Tempered Godfrey. 

" Forgelord  Godfrey , I saw that you  had requested parts to repair designation  X013A 227 938  ... I did not believe you would be able to repair the machine ... so I have prepared for you parts to build another. " 

Godfrey looked at her blankly  his face twitching just around the corner of his mouth as he fought a smirk. 

" You  dont believe I can repair this warmachine ?" 

Attira Zeth rose a bit the pistons of her metallic limbs  making a slight hissing noise as she brought herself eye to eye with Godfrey. 

" That is the rumor yes .... " 

Godfreys smirk won the battle and appeared on his face. 

" You know what I  like about you Zeth , you still have a good sense of humor."

Attira didint smile her face the false doll like mask  was likely incapable of such a gesture but the scent of the flowers did become stronger. 

" Go back to your rumor tower  , If youve brought me enough to build a new vindicator then it will be done .... ill just end up with two ..." 

Attira moved past him on mechanical limbs  , Godfrey oft wondered  if she was content with sacrificing so much of her humanity , during the first solar year that he took over the 775th  armored company he had explained to her that his loyalty was to the emperor  his father Rogal Dorn and then  the omnissiah in that order. She had told him this was acceptable and that was that. Friction was rare outside of the constant supply and demand issues  that were expected from  undertaking such a grand crusade.  Even now all these years later he couldnt read her , part of him was glad. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The repairs took  two solar weeks  an average turn around for normal damage not for a catastrophic machine repair , the construction of the  new vindicator was finished in a considerably shorter time. Three solar days. Godfrey had no slept  much while he worked.  Thankfully unlike the Boria Campaign he had not burned through his servitors like the meaningless puppets they were. Something about the work was soothing ... the repair of something broken ...a reforging  much like his own body... two limbs now he wondered how much more he would be called to give the thought was not a pleasant one. 

The two Vindicators stood before him being sprayed with the black of his companies heraldry then accented with the yellow of his legions colors.  The  sound of those metalic limbs clacking across the  workshop  brought that smirk back to his face he kept his back to the noise until  the Magos stood beside him.  She said nothing  for a short while  before  turning her head slowly to peer at him. 

" It is unfortunate "  

Godfrey raised an eyebrow  his expression still smug. 

" Whats that ? " 

" That you are a legionnaire , you  would have made a good tech adept." 

Godfrey balked for a moment his expression becoming confused.  The soft mechanical grating sound half a pulse half a whistle left  Attira.  Godfrey's eyes widened just a touch. 

" Did you just make a joke?" 

The Magos shrugged  and began to  walk closer to the vindicators to inspect them. 

" Of course not  Forgelord , I am above such  things , we wouldnt want people spreading rumors among the fleet now would we?" 

Godfrey said nothing he simply crossed his arms over his chest and  let the Magos go about her inspection. 

 



Started with just the one ended up doing two  so .. yea 

[GhostMalone]

Well flint.... I guess it's good to see you've been watching yourself dome sponge Bob so I guess good for you

[Elzender]

Some progress on Dibarion, just need to finish sculpting his right thumb and refine some details, and then I'll start with the hard part: painting him without making and absolute disgrace

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/9283f1d9-991c-40f1-9fb0-4a08980bb45e_zpsrl0f7edz.jpg

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/a3fb1bdf-7c0e-4710-8f3e-aa722d9f5dbc_zps3vlcrysl.jpg

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/bd4e42c4-b9e0-4fe9-a64c-bebb666c7372_zpsxvk3wx54.jpg

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/4d6d724e-6fdd-4372-a408-c4f49f813592_zpsx325wv3d.jpg

[Ezeriel]

I present my hastily done entry, Brother Jorus

Jorus was a Terran born member of the VIIth, inducted during the beginning of the Great Crusade.

Seen here with his preferred weapon, the heavy flamer. So great was his love of the flamer that his brothers often joked about how he should have been sent to the XVIIIth legion.

After news of Istvaan 3 reached Terra, Jorus and his company were assigned to the Retribution Fleet. They were to bring their primarchs wrath upon the traitors.

The fate of the Retribution Fleet in the Phall system is well known, And the fate of Jorus while not certain can be well guessed.

Jorus was one of the 53 terminators under Captain Tyr that boarded the Iron Blood in an attempt to kill Perturabo.

Clearly they failed and no doubt his helm and skull as well as those of the others are now adorning members of the Iron Circle.

Sorry for the bad pics and my attempt at fluff, real life prevents more work on this this month.

[Elzender]

Almost there, gotta finish the sword, the base, and final touches...

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/92acae6b-eb63-4da9-a1e8-f9d09a3a8241_zpsbatoklxy.jpg

I think it actually looks better in the picture than in real life, but not gonna complain

A bit of fluff, some more will come with the finished mini:

Loctar Dibarion, first lieutenant of the 81th company, was serving under command of Seneschal Scallus when his combat group was assigned to the Retribution Fleet. His captain and company champion, Caelon Gerhild, had trusted him with the command of the frigate "Herald of Liberation", as the captain's zealous temper made him prefer to lead planetfall assaults or boarding actions rather than to rule over the vessel. Despite being Terran-born, Loctar was a relatively young astartes, having served for under 50 years in the legion, but had already reached the rank of master of signals and was tasked with coordination of the heavy assets of the company and the orbital support in the battlefield. As a result, commanding a ship did not suppose a challenging task for him. However, the Phall engagement would suppose a nightmarish test to his abilities and willpower, the first of many to come throughout his service that would lead him to the Siege of Terra.

[Captain Nameless]

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I, The Nameless Captain, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the VII Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to battle.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my shield to the VII Legion.

On this matter, and by the Praetorian of Terra, I swear. 

 

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Really, I should have done this sooner. I'd already started working on something a few weeks ago, just forgot to announce it.

[StruManChu]

WARNING - HORUS HERESY HEADCANON INBOUND

Following the revelation of Horus' treachery and the desertion of fully half of the Legiones Astartes from the Emperor's light, Rogal Dorn and the Imperial Fists Legion were withdrawn to Terra. As the Emperor's Praetorian, Dorn was charged with commanding Terra's, and the Emperor's defence. This task bound him, and the bulk of his legion, to the immediate surrounds of the Sol system.

Not so for his First Captain.

Sigismund and his Templar companies were charged by their Primarch to co-ordinate and offensively prosecute the defence of Terra in territories and sectors further afield within the Segmentum Solar. Following the end of the Martian Civil War, the Crusade Fleets of the Imperial Fists launched out from Terra in 009.M31, and would spend the next five years delaying and harrying traitor forces until the final conflict on Terra herself.

Joined by Mechanicum forces, as well as local loyalist elements of the IV, IX, X and XIII Legions, Sigismund's Crusade Fleets bought Dorn and the Emperor the time they needed to reinforce the Sol system's defenses and to prepare for Horus' invasion. However, it was noted by many close to him that, over the course of his time fighting Terra's foes, the First Captain of the Imperial Fists became increasingly morose, his charismatic demeanour and belief in the supremacy of humankind slowly eroded and replaced by single-minded determination and hatred of those who had turned their back on their vows.

Though we have lost so much, this loss in particular is indeed a high price to pay. In the aftermath of Horus' heresy, we need leaders of the kind that Sigismund used to be. Men who can inspire and rally mankind together again to rebuild the Imperium of Man, who can navigate the intricacies and intrigues of our post-war politics and encourage us all to reach for something greater. I fear now that he has seen too much, and carried too much of a burden, to ever be that man again. Instead, he has built a brotherhood of zealots around him who only see the galaxy in black and white, and continues to lead them into violence and

Regardless, he is a hero, and we owe him a great debt. This is obviously speculative, but it is highly likely that without Sigismund's involvement, Terra may well have fallen. I can only wonder how he may shape its future in the days to come.

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There's an exchange between Dorn and Sigismund in a short story somewhere (can't remember for the life of me which one) which I absolutely hated. It's the one where Sigismund confesses his doubts and fears (as revealed to him by Euphrati Keeler) to Dorn, and the Primarch basically neuters him. I've never liked it, I thought it was a bad exchange between both characters, and not in line with how they'd both been written up to that point.

And so I choose to ignore it! In my mind, Sigismund sets off after Mars not because he feels like he has to prove a point or be penitent to Dorn or whatever, but because it's the right thing to do. He then kills thousands upon thousands of traitors, mortals and Astartes alike, because it's the right thing to do, and ultimately, in the face of all the war and death and brutality and horror he bears witness to over those years of fighting, all he has to cling to is his belief in the rightness of his actions. But war is hell, and so with each passing victory he loses more of himself until he becomes the embodiment of the Crusader; single-minded in purpose. That's why Sanguinius says of him ''... less my brother Dorn's Champion, and more Death's himself...". By the time he's returned to Terra to fight in the Siege, he's a different man.

Also, I have a thing about bald Space Marines who are supposed to be heroes. I don't like them. Therefore Sigismund is now rocking a Beckham-esque fauxhawk.

[Aeternus]

He could feel his last heart frantically pumping his blood through his body, and out through the gaping holes in his armour. Heartblood filled his lungs and mouth, the bitter liquid burbling out through pale lips. Stimulants and adrenaline willed a body to move that could no longer function, not even one as gene-hanced as his. As he felt his conscious fade away, he managed a spluttering laugh through crimson stained teeth set on a ragged face. The irony of his death did not escape him - born and inducted from Terra, it was only fitting that he would fall and end his life on it’s familiar earth once again, after centuries of roaming the galaxy. He could hear and see the legionaries around him through the half of his head that remained, he could hear and see them ignoring him, moving towards the position the rest of the squad occup- had occupied. The sea green of a Son of Horus, the white and red of the World Eaters, the dark metal of the Iron warriors, all warriors he would once have fought and died with. Once. With a final pathetic pulse, his heart gave out, and the life-linked munitions around the complex exploded, dozens of buried melta bombs, frag grenades and krak grenades. The mutilated Imperial Fist was given a burial of fire and stone as those who had killed him burned and cursed and died.

 

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http://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w376/Aeternas/20160429_074610_zpsgs3slkae.jpghttp://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w376/Aeternas/20160429_074615_zpssdurz3of.jpghttp://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w376/Aeternas/20160429_074619_zpsekwlakfj.jpg

 

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Tolias blink-cycled through the vox channels, feeling the icy cold of depression in his heart as he heard how many were filled only with weeping static. Eventually he found the one he wanted, and waited. Barely five minutes later, a voice came crackling through. Low and seemingly devoid of emotion, it growled a message.

 

‘Essential civilians withdrawn from complex. Beta squad, move back to Thespian arch, hold there. Additional legion units to join you, expect heavy support.’

 

He waited a second before answering, letting the channel grow silent.

 

‘How many civilians did you leave behind? Half of Beta squad will stay.’

 

Tolias could hear a snarl of irritation now, and a tinge of anger as the reply came through.

 

‘Wall-Captain, you will withdraw to the arch. Alpha squad is down to half strength.’

 

Tolias took a moment, glancing around. Amegion and Rainar lay face down, their power armour ripped to shreds by dozens of bolt shells. A steaming patch of rubble was all that remained of Eniax, vaporized by a stray plasma shot. Here and there other Astartes were collapsed, the once golden armour charred and burnt. Tolias remembered the screams over the vox as the volkite rays burnt away at them from within and without. Beta squad had fought and bled and screamed and died here. Less than a dozen of them still lived, and only half that could move with any ease. He felt his leg collapse from under him, the pain of the wounds returning. The dull ache in his shoulder from the lodged adamantium shards. The feeling of nothingness coming from half his skull. He replied, his voice stained with shame and sorrow.

 

‘I can’t, sir. We will hold-’ His voice catched in his throat, feeling the unwelcome taste of bile and blood in the pit of his stomach. He continued.

 

‘We will hold for as long as we are able. Retrieve the civilians.’

 

When the voice came back, it was almost compassionate. Almost. 

 

‘I understand, Tolias. Fight well, die well. For the Emperor, and for Dorn.’

 

With that, the vox-link cut off, the sharp sound of static returning. Pushing himself up, Tolias whispered through torn lips. 

 

‘For Dorn.’

 

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http://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w376/Aeternas/20160429_074624_zpsi50zp6hq.jpghttp://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w376/Aeternas/20160429_074646_zpshw2x5r2f.jpg

 

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Sergeant, later Wall-Captain Tolias, recruited from the Ursh tribes during the unification wars, was by no means an exemplary warrior. However he was a good soldier, befitting of the Imperial Fists. Fighting alongside the early legion from the end of the wars on Terra, he was part of the hammer and anvil strike force that captured the last Ethnarcy City of the Crystal City - a combined attack from the early XVIII and VII legions. Tolias was one of the few survivors of the campaign to exterminate the Wind Caller Clans in the Himalazia, where hundreds of astartes fell low to the powers wielded by the witches they were there to hunt down. And when the Fists were sent out into the dark galaxy to unite and destroy in equal measure, Tolias went with them. 

 

Though a veteran of the Unification wars, he alone from his previous battalion declined to wear the Raptor Imperialis upon his warplate when it was reforged and repainted in striking yellow. When pressed he would state that what they did upon Terra, slaughtering millions of humans upon the their homeworld, was nothing worth commemorating. Only a duty that they had to bear, that they might grow stronger from it. 

 

Tolias would serve the VIIth legion for almost the entirety of the Grand Crusade, from the first conquest of Luna to the last battle before the fates decreed the Crusade would change, and the galaxy would lose the little peace it had gained. When his company aboard the Victory-class battleship, Integrity, heard of the greatest betrayal humanity had ever known, they were thrown into an uncertain future. There were those that screamed their anger out to the void, demanding fire and fury and retribution. There were those who wept as they saw all they had built tumble down around them. There were those who understood why, but would stand by their duty. And then there were those that merely took all they felt, and quashed it, letting their eyes turn cold. Tolias, though never as jovial as his brothers, rarely spoke after the news.

 

Tolias would be one of the countless thousands of loyal marines to fall on Terra, defending the Imperial palace with their blood and bodies against an uncountable tide of those they had once called brother. Though it would be poetic to say he made a difference, he was but one tiny insignificant cog in a machine far greater than the sum of its parts. A single casualty in a war that spanned worlds, and would be decided by Gods. Mercifully perhaps, his body was later found amongst the rubble of the broken world by his surviving brothers. Hidden as it was under tonnes of stone and iron, his flesh was left untouched by the roaming bands of the IIIrd legion, who desecrated countless other loyalists, living or dead.

[Soldier of Dorn]

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Sergeant, later Wall-Captain Tolias, recruited from the Ursh tribes during the unification wars, was by no means an exemplary warrior. However he was a good soldier, befitting of the Imperial Fists. Fighting alongside the early legion from the end of the wars on Terra, he was part of the hammer and anvil strike force that captured the last Ethnarcy City of the Crystal City - a combined attack from the early XVIII and VII legions. Tolias was one of the few survivors of the campaign to exterminate the Wind Caller Clans in the Himalazia, where hundreds of astartes fell low to the powers wielded by the witches they were there to hunt down. And when the Fists were sent out into the dark galaxy to unite and destroy in equal measure, Tolias went with them. 

 

Though a veteran of the Unification wars, he alone from his previous battalion declined to wear the Raptor Imperialis upon his warplate when it was reforged and repainted in striking yellow. When pressed he would state that what they did upon Terra, slaughtering millions of humans upon the their homeworld, was nothing worth commemorating. Only a duty that they had to bear, that they might grow stronger from it. 

 

Tolias would serve the VIIth legion for almost the entirety of the Grand Crusade, from the first conquest of Luna to the last battle before the fates decreed the Crusade would change, and the galaxy would lose the little peace it had gained. When his company aboard the Victory-class battleship, Integrity, heard of the greatest betrayal humanity had ever known, they were thrown into an uncertain future. There were those that screamed their anger out to the void, demanding fire and fury and retribution. There were those who wept as they saw all they had built tumble down around them. There were those who understood why, but would stand by their duty. And then there were those that merely took all they felt, and quashed it, letting their eyes turn cold. Tolias, though never as jovial as his brothers, rarely spoke after the news.

 

Tolias would be one of the countless thousands of loyal marines to fall on Terra, defending the Imperial palace with their blood and bodies against an uncountable tide of those they had once called brother. Though it would be poetic to say he made a difference, he was but one tiny insignificant cog in a machine far greater than the sum of its parts. A single casualty in a war that spanned worlds, and would be decided by Gods. Mercifully perhaps, his body was later found amongst the rubble of the broken world by his surviving brothers. Hidden as it was under tonnes of stone and iron, his flesh was left untouched by the roaming bands of the IIIrd legion, who desecrated countless other loyalists, living or dead.

 

Emperor, that's beautiful. That's... wow, it's the epitome of my concept of  how a Fist should live. Wow. And you've said it better than I ever could have, too. That's just awesome.

 

Die as you lived, Son of Dorn. Die as you lived.

 

[Aeternus]

 

Emperor, that's beautiful. That's... wow, it's the epitome of my concept of  how a Fist should live. Wow. And you've said it better than I ever could have, too. That's just awesome.

 

Die as you lived, Son of Dorn. Die as you lived.

 

 

 

Thanks man :) and well put. I would think that would be what Tolias would have wanted. A lot of that story just stemmed from the 'by no means an exemplary warrior, but a good soldier' part, and that's really what I was going for. Not a great champion who would be remembered like Sigismund, but one of the thousands of great men that made up the Fists. What I like about them.

[Elzender]

Finally, the first incarnation of Loctar Dibarion is finished:

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/1.20Front_zpsc8gff9lg.jpg

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/4.20Back_zpsvwckcmsg.jpg

 

His promotion to the officer cadre had granted him access to an artificer suit of mkIV armour, although his old mkII was still perfectly operational. He decided to keep the shoulder pads with his earned honours, and the comms-equipment he used in his squad, modified and adjusted to his taste.

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/3.20Right_zpsaj1tt56g.jpg

 

On his right shoulder, the company number and the tactical arrow, which he hastily painted long time ago upon his assignation to an active combat group as a member of a tactical squad. Despite the lacklustre painting, he decided to keep it that way, as a reminder of his first steps and the reasons for him to enrol.

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/2.20Left_zpstblgrn0n.jpg

 

His left shoulder pad showed the wreath to represent his position as the first lieutenant of the company, and was the most recent addition. The Legion medal was a reward for his role in the Drantax Prime siege, where his reports as his company was breaching the city  perimeter guided the artillery squadrons to neutralize the anti-aircraft batteries, allowing the stormbirds to unleash their cargo straight into the critical locations.

 

The red cross was bestowed to him by his sergeant. While the Maltese cross was reserved to veterans, it was also associated to the fury and zeal of Sigismund's company and his templar brethren; this one was a tradition in the companies under command of Seneschal Scallus, recognizing the bearer as an example of temperance and fortitude to face adversity, and could be awarded regardless of rank or time of service. This symbol, however, also served a second purpose to the upper command: it marked those legionaries that were to be tested. Should they  uphold the values it represented, they would be considered for promotion and tutelage. The legionaries that faltered were censored, and spent the rest of their service in the lower ranks or were inducted into the destroyer cadres.

It says something about Loctar's personality that on the years to come, the cross would become part of his personal heraldry, and many would recognize him and his company for it.

 

A couple of additional pictures for some of the details:

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/6.20Detail202_zps9uzqlkn5.jpg

 

http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w490/Risollano/Warhammer/Dibarion/5.20Detail201_zpsumergbmf.jpg

 

And now, a bit more of fluff:

 

The mood in the fleet was tense, even for the stern nature of the VII^th legion. It was a duty to be fulfilled, and the Imperial Fists would never falter in it, but the enemy they were about to face caused an unusual, even if subtle, nervousness across the ranks. They knew who would face them, their strengths and weaknesses, their modus operandi and their resources, precious information so rarely available in other campaigns, but no training exercise or campaign had ever prepared them to fight other astartes, let alone four different legions. It would be the ultimate test to their motto: blood and honour.

 

"Blood and honour" thought Loctar, as he passed review on the command panel. The same blood that he had spilled side by side with the Wolves in Gyros-Thravian, one of his first deployments; the same honour that bound Seneschal Scallus and Lord Commander Demeter from the Third even before he had been inducted into the Fists. The idea that his former comrades had rebelled against the Emperor, with the Warmaster himself at the lead, and that he and his brothers were on the way to punish them, caused an echo of a feeling that he thought belonged to his past life: anguish.

 

He dismissed that sensation with an imperceptible nod. He had not yielded once in fourty-six years, and he would not either in this venture. A beeping noise distracted him from his thoughts, signalling an incoming transmission.

 

- Warp drive systems fully operative and ready, commander.- The combat group had been waiting for days in the rendezvous point for the last elements of the fleet to join them, and Loctar wanted to make sure everything was ready. He opened a channel on his helmet to the engines bay.

 

 

- Thank you for your swiftness, chief engineer Tarwell. We are awaiting the Seneschal's signal to initiate transition, but I would like a last review on the weapon systems before we depart.

 

There were muffled ramblings on the engineer's part.

 

- Are you doubting my crew's capability, commander? We've checked them three times since we arrived here and they are ready to lay waste. One would say you seem nervous, sir.

 

The marine sighed at the response, but had to contain a smile. Engineer Tarwell had been serving in the Herald of Liberation long before Loctar first stepped in it, and nobody who had interacted with him could doubt  his knowledge and expertise regarding the vessel. In fact, before being transferred its command, Tarwell had demanded to  interview him for a week to approve his apointment with Seneschal Scallus' permission, which had caused some disbelief to Loctar in the first instance. However, the lieutenant came to respect and appreciate him, for he was an example and a leader to all of the ship's human crew, and the legionary knew he could learn from him to become a better commander, not only to the vessel but also to his men. If that supposed having to endure the rants and name-callings, so it would be.

 

- I would never dare to question the proficiency of your crew nor yours, chief engineer Tarwell, but the magnitude of our mission will require the best of all of us, and we shall not be found wanting. We are not to fail in this task, for the future of the Crusade is upon our shoulders.

 

There was a loud cackling as a response to the marine's diplomatic yet severe message.

 

- You boxheads have no sense of humour, don't you? - the man said, while some muted laughs were still heard in the background. - You don't need to lick my arse to get me to do something, youngling. You'll have your damn review, but if you refer to me as chief engineer Tarwell ever again, I will go up there to soften that stony face of yours with a wrench, you hear me?.

 

Loctar was grateful to have opened a private channel, as he didn't need the whole command bridge hearing the engineer's speech under the risk of some of his men demanding a punishment for such an insubordination; sense of humour was indeed not the biggest strength in the ranks of the VII^th. However, the lieutenant acknowledged the intent of Tarwell, more directed to his men than to the marine, as he was aware of the importance of keeping the morale high in the face of such an enterprise. While he considered it had no place in the heat of a battlefield, Loctar knew that even jokes and humour could be useful tools, and the engineer had certainly mastered them. But Loctar was still a Fist, and he would not back away from a challenge.

 

- Loud and clear, Lord engineer Tarwell. Over and out. - He heard the crew erupt in laughter before he cut the communication. He would need to learn and use everything he had at his disposal  for the incoming conflict, even something as unlikely to be used in that situation as humour.