IL IV - Red Eyes

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War Deposition

The Red Eyes are an average sized legion, having had steady, continuous growth but not the great speed of some of the larger legions. The majority of the legion campaigns under the direct command of Theoderaf, with rotating chapters serving under him and the 1st Chapter as to keep the legion unified. With the formation of the Reclamation Command, a significant portion of the legion is dedicated to finding the Emperor, with the rest being dispersed around the Imperium dealing with insurrections. As time went on, the elements of the legion not chosen to be part of the Reclamation Command grew more and more distant, with those who displeased Theoderaf merely reassigned away from the Reclamation Command to these distant chapters and companies.

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Theoderaf stalked around the holding cell, both his presence and sheer physical size filling the space and pressing on the prisoner in the centre of the room. The lights flickered, designed to look like they were faulty to add to the fear of the subject. The one constant source of light in the room was Theoderaf’s eyes, two red embers gliding around the room, the prisoner being unable to look into them for fear of setting off the beast.

 

“Where is your base?” The words were only a whisper, low and guttural, yet they seemed to come from the room itself. The cogitators whirred within the prisoner’s augmetic left arm, sweat running down onto the chains and shackles.

 

“I have no information on a base. We are the wind and the sand.” 

 

Theoderaf snarled, slamming the wall of the cell with his fist and causing the prisoner to flinch. His bionic enhancements may have been designed to give him more control over his bodily functions, but the base human reactions to fear were unescapable.

 

“I will break you.” hissed Theoderaf, right in the prisoner’s ear. The prisoner jerked back instinctively, his chains going tort and holding him in place. “I can see your fear, the thoughts running through your head. You promised your Lord that you would serve him, that you would never betray him. You have failed him already. You are my prisoner, and I will pull every last piece of information from you and then keep pulling simply to inflict pain on you. Us finding your base is inevitable, you and your resistance are insignificant.” Theoderaf appeared in front of the prisoner in less than a second, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter. The prisoner let out a guttural scream, his augmetics grinding trying to break out of the chains. “WHERE. IS. YOUR. BASE.”

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Roderic: Equerry

Roderic was a recruit from Terra, and was the Legion Master when Theoderaf was discovered. Theoderaf moved him to become his advisor, bringing him up to speed on the history of the legion, its strengths and weaknesses, and the two became close. Roderic is the one Astartes Theoderaf can confide his doubts in, and Roderic always gives him the best advice he can. His death at the Shattering of the 4th was a devastating blow to Theoderaf.

Roderic is more even-tempered than most Red Eyes, having his Terran roots keeping him more grounded than those from Certus. He saw less and less combat as the Crusade went on, Theoderaf preferring to keep him in a strategic command position.

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Alaran Walla: First Chaplain and Equerry

Alaran started as a recruit from Certus Minor, rising to the rank of Sergeant by the 31st Millenia. Following his censure for his actions on the Candor Compliance, he was demoted and moved to the stewardship of Roderic, but this turned out to be a great boon for Alaran. The next year, the Chaplaincy was introduced, and Roderic pushed for Alaran to be made a Chaplain. It was here that Alaran flourished, his zeal and loyalty above those of regular Red Eyes made him a fantastic chaplain. After the Shattering of the 4th, Alaran was elevated to High Chaplain and took over Roderic’s role as Equerry.

Alaran is incredibly zealous, overly so in some cases, and it sometimes clouds his judgement when his blood is up. He has a fierce temper, which he manages to keep in check most of the time, and his training under Roderic helped with that. Once elevated to the High Chaplaincy, though, his rage had a new outlet and a new source of fuel.

Edited May 8, 2020 by TrajantheGreat

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Winguric Baza: Captain of the 2nd Chapter

Destiny Cutter

Winguric was from one of the first cities conquered by Theoderaf on Certus Minor, and his family was ruled by Theoderaf several years until the Emperor arrived. Winguric was born just before Theoderaf’s conquest, and has vivid memories of the fear that Theoderaf brought with him. He strives to instil that fear in his enemies. He has travelled up the chain of command, showing a flair for the fear tactics of the legion that aided him rise to become Captain of the 2nd Chapter.

Winguric has a dark reputation, having an intense fear aura that is second only to Theoderaf’s own. He wishes for his name to strike fear in the hearts of his enemies whenever it is spoken, cultivating an image of himself as a monster. However, amongst his chapter he is highly respected, being fiercely loyal to those who serve under him and looking to reduce casualties to his own men wherever possible.

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Alexius Jarimir: Chaplain of the 5th Chapter

The Voice of Doom

There exists no Red Eyes who speaks with the fury of the legion like Alexius, his sermons filling the hearts of all who hear them with fire and purpose. He works tirelessly to spread the message of the inner strength of the Imperial cause, and damn that of the enemy. On the battlefield, Alexius joins combat with a roar, amplified by his propaganda speakers to carry across the din of battle. Armed with an artificer shotgun and his power maul, he is a force of nature.

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Thrasaric Tufa: Captain of the 3rd Chapter

The Harbinger of the Divine

Thrasaric is one of the few main captains who cannot remember a time before Certus Minor was a part of the Imperium, being born the year that the Emperor arrived. As such, his faith is slightly different than his battle brothers, as he did not have the years of waiting and then vindication, living in a world where Theoderaf’s beliefs had already proven themselves and so to Thrasaric, his religion is not superstition, it is fact. He served with distinction for the hundred years of his service, steadily advancing from a marine to captain. His first significant campaign as captain was the Purging of Cortonis, and for the rest of the Great Crusade commanded independent campaigns from the legion with exemplary results. With the disappearance of the Emperor, Thrasaric and his expeditionary fleet rejoined the Red Eyes as soon as possible.

Thrasaric is a quiet and thoughtful captain, not one to rashly make a decision and being known for identifying the perfect time to strike. He is a devout follower of Theoderaf’s vision, wearing numerous purity seals with prayers on them and carrying a book with him whether he goes where he writes Theoderaf’s or his own religious beliefs in it.

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The Golden Message, Part 1

 

Roderic marched through the halls of The Emperor’s Oblivion, moving as fast as he could without breaking into a run. He passed dozens of battle-brothers, but did not stop to converse with any of them. As he passed one group of Astartes in discussion, one peeled off and walked alongside him.

 

“Brother Roderic.” Came the deep, slightly coarse voice.

 

“Brother Eurex, I am just on my way to meet with Lord Theoderaf.” He tried to convey in his tone that he did not have the time for length discussion.

 

“Good, I hoped to join you there. He is on the command bridge determining where we are headed next.” The two walked quickly, Athanius glancing at Roderic. “So is it good news?”

 

“I do not wish to get your hopes up, Athanius. It is news, that is all.”

 

They reached the bridge in no time, no one daring to slow them down. In the centre of the room, standing over several read outs and maps of the segmentum. He was conversing with the golden Custodian standing at his side, who remained helmeted so neither Roderic nor Athanius could make out the conversation. The fleet admiral stood behind him, standing bolt upright even though Theoderaf could not see them, waiting for his orders. Serfs would run up, bring a new piece of information, and then scurry away out of the doors, forming a swarm of data that was constantly added to the plans. Theoderaf looked up as they approached, looking ever so slightly haggard.

 

“Roderic, Athanius, I assume this is important?”

 

“My Lord.” Roderic handed over a data slate he had brought with him. “Our information network has heard reports that a backwater world that has yet to be brought to compliance is proclaiming that a golden god came to them.” Theoderaf nearly leapt across the table, walking around it in an instant and taking the slate from Roderic. He scanned it in an instant, and added it to the table. Roderic continued. “Apparently the god conversed with a local leader in private, and then disappeared. The leader is proclaiming to be the prophet of the new god, and the world has fallen under his sway. The world has been designated 47-16.”

 

Theoderaf took a step back from the table, analysing all of the maps. “Then we head to 47-16.” The admiral saluted and hurried back to their station, barking orders at the serfs as the order went out across the fleet.

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The Golden Message, Part 2

 

Everything was chaos in the streets. Waithira was unable to make out what people were excited chattering about, but the street outside her house was busier than she had ever seen it. People were running around, busily bringing out supplies as the grey clad militia patrolled, though they had their weapons holstered. Everywhere the buildings shimmered with brilliant sunlight, with the decorations that now covered the street catching the light in a sparkling display. Waithira saw a friend of hers in the crowd, who ran up to her smiling ecstatically. 

 

“Waithira! What are you doing, come on! We have to help get things ready!” She grabbed Waithira and pulled her into the crowd, which swallowed them both.

 

“What’s going on, Wokabi?”

 

“The Storm King!" Wokabi shouted, "Word is that he has returned!”

 

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Theoderaf stood in his chambers, finishing putting on his armour as Master of the Forge Visimar aided. Theoderaf could tell from Visimar’s manner that he was displeased with Theoderaf’s decision, but was unwilling to argue the point unasked.

 

“Out with it, Visimar. You do not think I should go down to the planet alone.”

 

Visimar courtly nodded, attaching the final shoulder pad. “My Lord, we have seen so many times humans pretend to accept us and then attack. These could be the same, and our scans have identified several large constructs that we have been unable to determine their abilities from this range.”

 

Theoderaf gave his armour a quick look over and then moved to the door. “Visimar, the Emperor has visited them. I am coming in peace to trade information with them, they will not attack me. Do not worry yourself, this is merely a diplomatic mission.” Theoderaf smiled. “Am I not known for my diplomacy?” Theoderaf chuckled, whilst Visimar snorted slightly and joined Theoderaf at the door.

 

“Will you not at least bring some weapon?” 

 

“No, I will not be needing a weapon. Now, I am heading to the teleportarion, you are dismissed.” They both left the room and headed in different directions.

 

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Militia Commander Kũngũ anxiously tugged at his collar, his other hand lightly brushing against his bolt carbine pistol. He wished he could be allowed to bring more of his militia with him, as he felt exposed as he stood with a single regiment outside the city. He took some reassurance from the two large obsidian constructs that stood guarding the main gate to the city, yet their lack of movement did not fill him with confidence. A sudden flash of light followed by a loud boom echoed from the field in front of them, the militia grabbing their guns and Kũngũ grabbing his pistol.

 

“Hold, my friend, do not draw your weapon.” Came a strong, calm voice from his side. Kũngũ slowly put the pistol away, looking at Grand Elder Gĩchũki out of the corner of his eye. His attention turned back to the field, and his eyes widened as he saw the golden giant standing there. “It is him.”

 

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Theoderaf took a deep breath, identifying the composition of the air and the feel of gravity for a second. He took a step forward, activating his vox-link to The Emperor’s Oblivion’s propaganda speakers. “People of Ishkur, I have been sent by the Storm King. I am Theoderaf, Lord of the Red Eyes and Son of the Storm King, and I have come to talk with you, as you have been chosen by Him.” He raised his arms, as if embracing the city in front of him. “Rejoice, as the Imperium embraces you!” A roar came from the city, a rousing cheer that was echoed by the militia out in front of the city. Theoderaf saw a central figure in the militia begin walking forward. 

 

There you are, Gĩchũki. Theoderaf thought to himself as he began walking forward to meet him. Theoderaf moderated his pace, reaching Gĩchũki just out of bolt carbine range. Grand Elder Gĩchũki looked to be in his late sixties, with a heavily lined face and shoulder-length grey hair. His long, grey scraggly beard was tied into his clothes of office, long crimson robes embellished with gold. The man bowed as he reached Theoderaf, and Theoderaf inclined his head in response.

 

“You do indeed look like the Storm King, the beard is a little different and the eyes are… striking. Do you have any proof that you are indeed sent by the Storm King?” Grand Elder Gĩchũki stated matter of factly, not showing any fear at the giant twice his size in front of him. Theoderaf was taken aback by this, though kept a straight face. He reached up to his armour and removed a talisman that was hanging around his armour. He reached down and showed it to Gĩchũki, the golden eagle with rubies embedded glowing in the sunlight. 

 

“This was given to be by my father when he told me I was ready to take command of my legion. It is one of my most cherished gifts, as it is a symbol of his role for me, to be his wrath.” Gĩchũki examined the talisman, and smiled.

 

“Theoderaf, it is an honour to meet with the son of the Storm King. We welcome you to Ishkur.”

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Athanius Eurex: 1st Captain, Captain of the Marks of Fate, The Red Storm

Athanius Eurex was one of the first recruits from Certus Minor, having been brought up during Theoderaf’s reign of Certus. He is entirely devoted to Theoderaf, willing to do whatever Theoderaf commands and he was the first Astartes to gain the endorsement of Theoderaf to join the Marks of Fate. Once a member of the Marks of Fate, he was never defeated by someone looking to replace him in the bodyguard, and eventually became the Mark of Destiny.

Athanius is a whirling storm of death in combat, his lightning claw and axe spinning with impossible speed and mean that he is capable of defeating any opponent. He may not have the tactical skill of some of the other high ranking Red Eyes, but his talent for combat is unmatched. He is a rather gruff individual, having little time for long-winded discussions and the more theological debates that some of the legion engage in. To him, he takes the world as it is, and is not aiming to change it to fit some grand vision.

 

Art by Shane Cook - Deviant Art - https://www.deviantart.com/slaine69

 

Edited June 1, 2020 by TrajantheGreat

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Theoderaf stood in silence, slowly turning the weapon in his hand. He scanned the surface of it, noticing the intricate gold words engraved onto the sides.

 

Traitors’ Scourge. Theoderaf smiled, looking up from his new sidearm.

 

“Excellent, brother. The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

 

Niklaas nodded, his stony expression not joining his brother’s smile. He remained by his forge, the next project already being set up. “I managed to improve the venting mechanism of the plasma pistol, increasing its cooling system by 52%.”

 

“I guess I could manage with only 52% improvement.” Theoderaf chuckled. Niklaas gave him an unamused look, and motioned to the opposite side of the room.

 

“Have a go at testing your aim with it, if you feel the need.” Theoderaf turned, raised the pistol and fired, landing a shot straight into a target’s head, the whoomp of the shot echoing in the forge and the ceramite of the target sizzling and melting under the blast.

 

Of course it was perfectly weighted for me. Theoderaf thought to him.

 

“Thank you Niklaas, I am truly honoured by the gift. I hope that we can test it in the field together soon.” Theoderaf held out his arm. Niklaas grasped it with a slam of ceramite on ceramite, the corner of his mouth slightly curling upwards.

 

“It would be my pleasure, brother.”

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Irorukian Wraiths

During one of Theoderaf’s first compliances after having joined his legion, on the world of Iroruki, a veteran company overwhelmed a critical strong point on the enemy’s defence line, suffering heavy casualties as they charged headlong through the breach. This insane bravery and devotion was recognised after the battle by Theoderaf, who took the surviving 20 veterans and formed them into a new unit, the Irorukian Wraiths. Given teleportation transponders and selecting as their weapon of choice the chainaxe design of their fallen commander from Iroruki, Fritigar, the Wraiths overwhelm their opponents with a lightning series of blows. Only those Red Eyes who have survived against incredible odds are chosen to join the Wraiths.

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Art of Theoderaf, done by Ruslan.

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The Emperor’s Oblivion

The Emperor’s Oblivion was an Imperial Gloriana-class Battleship that served as the flagship of Theoderaf, the Primarch of the Red Eyes. The Emperor’s Oblivion was constructed during the Great Crusade and participated in many of the battles of the Five Ruins in the late 30th and early 31st Millennia. Following the disaster of the Second Ruin, the battleship would be renamed by Theoderaf to World’s Bane, no longer viewing the vessel as embodying the Emperor’s judgement.

This flagship led the flotilla of the Red Eyes’ warships which comprised the IVth Legion's 5th Expeditionary Fleet. It was from this flagship that Theoderaf coordinated and prepared his forces before every assault, and upon which he would lead his Legion into the Eye of Terror.

Bedecked in shining gold ceramite, the Emperor’s Oblivion was a beauty of Imperial design, with an enormous eagle with wings out-spread mounted on the prow. Inside, the ship boasts the Imperium’s largest teleportarium, the work of countless tech-priests and rumours mention the Emperor himself aiding in the design. Due to the vast amounts of power required for the teleportarium, the weapons systems were less numerous or potent than on other Gloriana’s such as the Rage of Angels.

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Red Eyes Terminator from the Tiwaz Furies

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Golden Message, Part 3

 

Waithira felt the near intolerable crush of the crowd, the constant jostling for a better view of the street and the occasional cry of a person looking their balance and falling to the ground. The trumpets of the militia had been blaring for over an hour now, and Waithira was starting to worry about the Storm King deciding to take a different route through the city. A cry, far louder than any that had happened yet, went out, coming from the far end of the street. Waithira jumped upwards to see what was happening, and caught a glimpse of gold. She joined in the shouting, joy overwhelming her as she saw her god walking towards her. The golden figure walked with Grand Elder Gĩchũki, with militia lining the route making sure the crowd did not spill over. It took at least 20 minutes for the pair near enough to Waithira for her to make out any firm details of the figures. The energy of the crowd was reaching a fever pitch, as everyone fought to gain the attention of the god, shouting prayers and praises and holding up their religious iconography. The god seemed unaffected by it all, watching the crowds with a steely look on his face and seemingly in conversation with the Grand Elder. Waithira felt herself begin to cry, both from jubilation and extreme sadness, that this would be as close as she would ever get to her god and that in a few seconds he would move forward without her. The god’s sweep of the crowds reached her, and for a split second his red eyes locked with hers. 

 

The Storm King, himself. I...

 

Waithira awoke in her room, Wokabi fanning her. She didn’t remember getting there, and the bruises on her arms and legs all aching.

 

“How did I get here?” She asked weakly.

 

Wokabi gave her a sympathetic smile. “You fainted, I had to drag you out of there. Did the heat get to you?”

 

Waithira wistfully remembered the last few moments of the parade. “No, He noticed me.”

 

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Golden Message, Part 4

 

Theoderaf crouched down, squeezing through the doorway of Gĩchũki’s private chamber. The amount of eagle iconography that covered the room reminded Theoderaf of home, stone eagle busts and engravings on columns around the outside of the room. Gĩchũki moved to try and find a chair study enough to hold Theoderaf’s weight. The furniture was rather sparse, a lavish carpet on the floor with the pattern of Gĩchũki talking with the Emperor woven into it and a plush sofa, which Theoderaf judged he would probably break under his weight. Gĩchũki could not find anything, offering Theoderaf a cushion.

 

“I will remain standing, thank you.” Rumbled Theoderaf.

 

Gĩchũki sat on the sofa, motioning for a servant to bring them some refreshment. “So, Lord Theoderaf, you have yet to explain why you are here. The Storm King did not inform me that he would send messengers.”

 

“The Storm King appeared to you several months ago, correct? What did he tell you?” 

 

Gĩchũki waited until his servant brought the drinks, took a long gulp and wiped his face with a damp towel. “Yes, he appeared several months ago, wreathed in flame and burning with divinity. I was terrified, and bowed before him. His voice echoed like a thousand voices all speaking at once, the force of it knocking me back.” Gĩchũki took another drink. “How come you do not know what He said? Can you not ask Him yourself?”

 

Theoderaf looked rather uncomfortable, his eyes boring into Gĩchũki and the slightest red glow growing in his eyes. Gĩchũki could not help but sink into the sofa, the room suddenly feeling hotter and more claustrophobic. “He is occupied at the moment, and I wished to investigate whether you truly spoke to Him or you are a charlatan peddling false promises.”

 

Gĩchũki stammered “I… I am telling the truth, he a...appeared to me. He told me that he needed the help of humanity, that humanity would need to be strong until he can return. He… he told me that people need not worry, that he would return and humanity would be saved.”

 

Relief flooded Theoderaf, his face calming and he downed his drink in one gulp. The servant hurried forward to refill the drink, and Theoderaf passed him his glass.

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Cult of Purification

 

Within the Red Eyes, those who are deemed to have broken their faith to the Emperor or Theoderaf are outcasts. This can happen for several reasons, such as a particularly devastating loss during their command, an ill omen marking them out, or them being found guilty of blasphemy. Their commanders will send anyone who they know to be an outcast into the worst combat zones, and their fellow squad mates will shun them so as to not be tainted in their disfavour.

 

There is only one path for these Astartes to follow for redemption, the Cult of Purification. A hidden cult within the legion, the Legion’s high command make sure to leave the Remembrancers away from any area where the Cult is present. Covered in engravings of scripture and in some cases Certian script and mostly black armour, these Astartes are required to prove their devotion and that they have regained the Emperor’s favour. This is most commonly done via suicidally heroic acts of bravery and constant prayer, after which if a chaplain of the legion or Theoderaf deems the individual to have cleansed themselves of their failure then they are officially freed from stigma in a Rite of Purification.

 

The longer an individual stays within the Cult of Purification, the heavier the mental cost of their ostracism weighs on them. Without chaplains to minister to them, they are prone to depression and extreme rage, which drives them even further to risk their lives. These veterans gather “followers” around them, younger members who see these figures as leading them straight towards foes against whom will earn them the Emperor’s favour.

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Fredegar: Knight-Errant of the Sigillite

 

Fredegar was destined to never rise high in the Red Eyes legion, due to his natural scepticism to authority and his bias towards the Imperial Truth. Highlighted for his questioning of the Imperial Cult, Fredegar was still a mere Tactical Support Marine in the 1st Chapter by the time of the First Ruin, a position that he was far over-qualified for. He was present aboard the Emperor’s Oblivion when Theoderaf headed for Terra following the Breaking of Keld’abe, and while the attention of all was on Theoderaf’s rage, Fredegar was contacted by agents of the Sigillite. Slipping away from his legion, Fredegar remained on Terra when Theoderaf departed, and would become one of the Knights-Errant.

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The Iron Confrontation

 

Araphel stood perfectly still, head straight forward, staring at the Eternity Gate. He turned his head slightly as one of the Custodes next to him lowered his head and followed at the Custodes on the other side of Araphel. Araphel heard the sounds of armoured footsteps beneath him, and the two Custodes turned around. A rush of wind filled the corridor, as a boom rang out. Araphel closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

 

A roar, more akin to the howls of a wounded animal, sounded as gold flashed. The Custodes had their halberds raised as Araphel turned to face the arrival. He dreaded little due to his Primarch psychology, but this he would dread. The form of a golden beast came stalking down the corridor, flanked by golden Terminators. Araphel knew them all by sight, having served alongside most of them and being informed on the others. The figure at the head he knew all too well. 

 

The Custodes held firm as the golden group marched forward and a near run, the lead figure forging on as his bodyguard strove to keep pace. The lead figure came within 10 paces of Araphel, and stopped suddenly, the fingers of his armour clenching and unclenching. A silence hung in the air, thick with tension as the lead figure swayed on the spot, his bodyguards keeping their weapons holstered and the Custodes holding their position. The crimson, glowing eyes of the lead figure bore into Araphel, his heavy breathing audible from where Araphel stood. Araphel inhaled and broke the silence.

 

“Theoderaf...”

 

Theoderaf roared, the sound amplified by the corridor into a deafening explosion. “Don’t you dare!” Theoderaf moved so fast even Araphel struggled to follow his movements, crossing the space between the two of them in a flash. The Custodes barely got their halberds crossed in front of Araphel before Theoderaf was there, axe in hand. Araphel remained still, keeping eye contact. Araphel could see what even his other brothers could not, the visible signs of tiredness that lined Theoderaf’s usually well-maintained face. His once pristinely short beard was uneven, hairs out of line and unshaven. The ten long years since the two had last seen each other had clearly worn on his brother.

 

“Don’t you dare.” Theoderaf snared.

 

“Brother…” Araphel continued, softly.

 

“Do not call me that! Rang was my brother! We all bled together, swore our oaths of brotherhood. You broke yours. You are not my brother.” Theoderaf spoke through gritted teeth, gripping his axe so tightly Araphel thought it might break under the stress. “I’ll kill you for what you have done. You have betrayed the Emperor and the Imperium, and I shall enforce the Emperor’s justice on all traitors. There is no need for this trial that Alexandros has ordered.”

 

“Theoderaf, please step away from the prisoner.” One of the Custodes stated through their vox-grill. Theoderaf looked at both of them, and took a step back. Theoderaf’s breathing rocked his body, heavy and almost painful. 

 

“I am sorry, brother.” Araphel continued.

 

Theoderaf looked at him for a long second, his eyes maintaining their blinding glow. “Why? Why did you do it?” Theoderaf whispered. The sudden change in his voice caught Araphel by surprise, and he could see past the glow of Theoderaf’s eyes to the pained expression on his face.

 

“I had no choice.” Araphel stated firmly. Behind him, the Eternity Gate opened and more Custodes marched into the corridor. The familiar footsteps behind him did not feel him with confidence. The shuffled footsteps of Malcador the Sigillite and the slow and deliberate footsteps of Alexandros Darshan VonSalim approached the two, and Theoderaf straightened, the snarl back on his face. The third set of footsteps were a surprise to Araphel, the reserved and heavy footsteps of Kadai Vilaccan, Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes.

 

“Theoderaf, you were granted access to the Palace, please do not abuse our hospitality by brandishing weapons.” Malcador chided as he stood next to Araphel. Alexandros stood behind Araphel, clearly aware of the need to not further escalate the situation with his arrival. Kadai walked past all of them, and stood close to Theoderaf. He turned his back to Araphel, and Theoderaf reluctantly turned to speak with him. The two spoke in hushed tones, with Kadai placing his hand on Theoderaf’s armour and attempting to lead him away. The occasional raised voice of Theoderaf was audible. 

 

Brother… Traitor… the Emperor…

 

Theoderaf’s bodyguard joined the Primarch and Custode, walking around so that the party now faced the opposite direction standing behind their father. Araphel turned his head to look at Alexandros, and Alexandros motioned for the Custodes to move. The two flanking Custodes turned back around and led Araphel through the Gate, Araphel following without need of coercion. Araphel could feel Theoderaf’s eyes boring into the back of his head, but he kept walking.

Edited May 14, 2021 by TrajantheGreat

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Cult of Torten

 

Whilst the culture of Terra is predominant within the Red Eyes, there is a subculture of those who follow the old ways of Certus. The majority of Certus were not worshippers of the Thunder King before Theoderaf’s conquest, with one of the major gods of Certus being the god of Death, Torten. Many of the children recruited into the Red Eyes were from families who had worshipped Torten, and some of these still kept the traditions alive in secret. Most of these children would then have their faith replaced with worship of the God-Emperor during training and indoctrination, but a very small number retained their traditions.

 

These few Certians coalesced into a secret subculture within the legion, marking themselves out with very subtle Certian symbols and holding secret gatherings. Despite the amount of secrecy, for the period of the Great Crusade the Cult was not concerned about overturning the Terran culture or opposing Theoderaf’s command, instead simply celebrating the old traditions and keeping the flame alive. They actively avoided recruitment, believing that any of the Hinimam would catch wind and clamp down on their non-belief, with new members only being selected if they already had an upbringing in the traditions and could recognise the symbols.

 

In the aftermath of the Second Ruin and the Shattering of the 4th, the Cult of Torten would grow in size considerably as some Red Eyes turned to old Certus to fill the gap left by their abandonment of the Imperial Cult. Many of the Cult’s adherents would be amongst the fiercest warriors to fall during the Siege of Terra, dedicating themselves openly to Death and throwing themselves at the Loyalist defences.

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Red Eyes Praetor by Antus

[TrajantheGreat]

Rechiar: The Hand of the Lord, Captain of the Tensiti

 

 

Rechiar was a recruit from Certus Minor, from a poor family who grew up after Certus had joined the Imperium. Rechiar was brought up in the traditional Certian religion of worshipping the God-Emperor, fully accepting the teachings and striving to embody the principles of the Imperium. He put himself forward for joining the Legiones Astartes, showing piety in the trials and a ruthlessness in refusing to allow others to push him to the sides. Rechiar entered the legion having already marked himself out as noteworthy to the legion’s high command.

 

 

 

Rechiar followed a rather conventional path within the legion, showing competency but a lack of original thought that made his rise into a position of command unlikely. He rose from the ranks of the legion to become a Veteran, and then onwards to become a member of a Terminator Squad. He excelled at not only combat but also interrogation, utilising torture and his innate fearsomeness to extract information from his prisoners. His rather barbaric methods and abrasive bluntness put off several of the legion’s high command, but Theoderaf found Rechiar’s faith and loyalty admirable. Theoderaf interviewed Rechiar in private, and after the meeting raised him into his Tensiti, his honour guard for major diplomatic events. 

 

 

 

Rechiar is defined by his loyalty above all to his father, viewing Theoderaf as the son of God and as such demands absolute obedience and devotion. He has little time for proselytising or propagandising, he does not have the natural skill of oratory that others of his brothers have, he cares only about fulfilling whatever task he is set. Rechiar is capable of acting more noble when it is required in his role as Captain of the Tensiti, though usually achieved by his silence and his regal armour rather than his eloquence.

 

 

 

Wargear: Tartaros Terminator Armour, Lightning Claw, Combi-Bolter, Torturer’s Blade

 

Edited June 26, 2022 by TrajantheGreat
Fixing formatting