"Wardens!" Talvyrn cried, his voice booming and echoing through the hull of his flagship, [i]Skyward Bound[/i], the faces of his Legionaries looked straight at their Primarch, all lined up in perfect formation, row by row and column by column, "Today is the day which we shall descend from the heavens unto the grounds of Ullanor Prime and assist our brothers and sisters in arms! Do not fear the green brutes who have decided to venture forth here and sack a planet of our Imperium, for you hath been given the best arms and weapons, your training is unquestionably great and your resolve tenfold of that!"

The Primarch made dramatic hand movements as he spoke, character of his speeches that were given back on Bravadis all that time ago. A few of the Wardens cheered from amongst the crowd as Talvyrn reset his limbs and servo-arms, running his hand through his hair and clearing his throat before resuming his passionate speech, "Tis might be just another fight to some of you, but each and every victory we earn is grand and important! Do not waver in your abilities since you "do not see the worth", nonsense! Let us preform with exception and distinction so that none shall ever forget us! May no human never forget the title we bear and may all of these Ork greenskins remember our name with fear! Upon blessed iron wings we shall decent from the heavens into their lines and wreak chaos and destruction to their lines and numbers! The greenskins will learn to fear the sight of our drop pods as they crash into the earth and bring the Emperor's will upon them! Now, to your drop pods men! Unto Victory!"

"Unto Victory!" the ground shook under the weight of a thousand astartes, eager to prove their worth in service to their Primarch and their Liege. Anyone who hadn't taken a weapon found one quickly from either a rack or a servitor, putting their helmets on as they dashed to fill the drop pods that would guide them into battle. Tech priest made their rounds, making sure that the latches where sufficiently tight to allow the Wardens a secure if not snuggly ride down to Ullanor. A few Chapter Serfs gave their last blessings to their respective Astartes before rushing away as the doors closed.

Talvyrn made his way down his platform and to his own drop pod, his Honor Guard already waiting for him. While his Wardens could change between pods as they wished, Talvyrn always needed a specially modified one which could fit his servo-harness in it. The Primarch took a deep breath as he approached the pod, a servitor passing his polished helmet to him that he kept at his side as he sat down. [i]Father watch me now,[/i] Talvyrn thought to himself as he started into the crimson eyes of the helmet, its hot color reminding him of his own fiery eyes. Turning the helmet over, he slipped it over his dark steel hair and watched it flicker to life, "Donovan, calculate trajectory for all pods. Inform the fleet to make preparations for drop." 

"Brother, art thou sure thou shan't need a bombardment from orbit?" the voice of Talvyrn's brother, Baron Donovan of the Fourth House, crackled over the vox in his helmet.

"Yes, I am sure of it." Talvyrn got comfy in his seat as a tech priestess came over to check its security, giving the Primarch a thumbs up before closing the pod door, "Should I need orbital fire support, I shall request it from you directly."

"Very well. Cogitators are processing... annndddd... finished. Commencing drop on your command."

A moment of silence hung in not only the pod, but also the ship, only the low humming of lights and whirring of machinery breaking the silence along with the breaths of Talvyrn's guard as they sat in wait. They may have been the best of the XIX Legion, but dropping was still harrowing to some degree, especially seeing as they hadn't done it into direct combat all that many times before hand. Talvyrn would be lying if there wasn't some shred of nervousness somewhere inside of him but he had committed himself and his forces to this mission ordained by his father, he would not fail him. It would be carried out and finished, not matter the cost.

"Drop!" the Primarch barked once all of his nerves were hardened. In the space less than that of even a second, he could hear the locks let go and the pod being shot out into space, hurtling towards their target on Ullanor. The pod rattled as it left screeching rocket trails in its wake, despite its solid construction, not that it exactly bothered Talvyrn to a great degree. If anything, he was more worried about some of the newer Wardens with less training and experience with the crafts. 

[i]"He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,"[/i] Talvyrn's ears pricked up as the vox channel opened up to the sound of Lotrhic's voice, half chant half song. The Primarch immediately recognized the lyrics, part of some old anthem sung by ancient Terran drop-soldiers as an act of comic camaraderie in the face of danger. Talvyrn remembered how one of his soldiers had found a holotape of it on one of the ships that the XIX Legion was given and how it became an instant hit with the rest of the Legion. It was almost their "war song" in a way, a chant which allowed the Wardens as a whole to hide their fear in unison, reminding them that they were in this fight together.

[i]"He checked all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;"[/i] the song got increasingly louder as more and more marines joined in on it with Talvyrn himself contributing a few lines.
 
[i]"He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar, 
you ain't gonna jump no more!'

"Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die!
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die!
Gory, gory, what a hell of way to die!
He ain't gonna jump no more!"[/i]

The pods broke atmosphere, shedding their outter armor plates, raining smaller plates of metal down to the ground along side with the drop pods and their Warden Aegis cargo. The singing stopped as everyone braced themselves for impact, "Make ready men! For the enemy will be right in front of us upon landing! Brace for impact!" the Primarch yelled into his vox. Bright tails of flame followed the metal craft as they soared through the endless skies of Ullanor, screeching their way through the air right before they plowed into the ground. 

With the strength of a falling star, the iron rain of drop pods slammed into the Ork lines, unprepared for such a sudden orbital attack, killing any in the immediate vicinity, knocking out those a bit further and confusing the rest. Heavy metal doors dropped down as the Wardens Aegis had finished their descent and jumped from their cradles on to the earthen ground, weapons drawn as sergeants commanded their squads to move and get to cover or charge straight a head.

"[b]COM'ON GENTS! TEAR 'EM TO PIECES! FORWAAAARRRDDD[/b]!" Baron Greyet roared into the vox channels as he lead his House right into the thick of the fighting as the vanguard, Talvyrn himself was already all weapons drawn, carrying [i]Soul Hook[/i] and [i]Sentinel Brave[/i] in one hand and a bolter of his own design in another. The mechadendrite on his back whirred as they too open fired with the weapons that their controller had given to them, firing off bolt pistols and cutting down charging orks with Talvyrn's sword, [i]Ironpride[/i].

Flanked by his guards, the Primarch cut his way through the green beasts of rage and war, spraying bolt after bolt into any ork he deemed fit to receive one. Bolter fire replaced all other sounds in the ork line, sending hot trails of metal into the air, sometimes followed by lascannon shots or explosions. Battlewagons crashed through the war-torn ground as they unleashed their obscene amounts of dakka into the Wardens Aegis, only to be met with a rain of fire as astartes threw their grenades high into the air.

"Donovan," Talvyrn slide behind the cover of a burning husk of a battlewagon as he tried to raise his brother on the comms, "Inform Sister Farrah that I indent to link my forces with her's in order to relieve Brother Erron. I'm brinin-"

[color=darkgreen][b][i]"WWWWAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"[/i][/b][/color], the ground and hills shook as the Ork's infamous battle cry rung out over even the loud and chaotic bolters and bullets, crashing over the hills and terrain like the greentide they were known as. Talvyrn cursed as as was forced to cut off his transmission to focus on the ensuing battle. The Wardens Aegis were forced to bear the sudden charge of green flesh and muscle against them. Guns were dropped and shields and blades were drawn and brothers fought like knights of old in their battle lines. For a split second Talvyrn was transported back in time, to an era where he wasn't known as Primarch Talvyrn, but Lord Talvyrn, leading his sword-armed armies against those of his foes in his grand unification wars of Bravadis.

[color=darkgreen][b][i]"'OOKIE 'ERE BOYZ, FOUND ME SELF SUM 'UMIES TO KILL!!"[/i][/b][/color], a Nob bellowed from atop the carcass of the battlewagon, his squad of Boyz not far behind. Talvyrn screwed up his face and growled a little in the face of the armored Nob, one of his servo-arms delivering [i]Ironpride[/i] to his hand as his dagger made its way back to his shield hand, backing up as he slipped into a familiar sword stance, "Doth thou dare challenge me? Very well; I pray you've made your peace with those mushrooms you call gods, ork."

[color=darkgreen][b][i]"OOOO... 'EZ A ROIGHT COKEY GIT NAO AIN'T 'E?"[/i][/b][/color], the Nob burst out in laughter as he dropped down to face the Primarch, [color=darkgreen][b][i]"AGGROX GUNNA SHOW YEW 'UMIE WOT A FIOGHT IS REALLE LOIKE!"[/i][/b][/color]

The ork rushed at Talvyrn, slamming his massive choppa into the ground as the Primarch rolled away. Loud, rancorous curses were thrown at Talvyrn as he spun the sword in his hand. Another bullrush from the Nob, choppa flailing wildly, forced the Primarch to side step to the beast's right as he managed to land a slash across the face of the ork as he moved. Behind him, Talvryn could sense the furious melee that his guards where in with a mob of Boyz, hacking and slashing and even biting at their ceramite armor but the Primarch had to focus on his own fight.

Aggrox howled in pain as the power sword cut right through his leather jaw, shattering his teeth. Exploiting his opportunities, Talvyrn sunk the tip of [i]Ironpride[/i] into the Nob's flesh, a geyser of blood spewing out as the blade left his body. Another storm of enraged curses was soon followed by another wild flailing of metal, but this time the High Lord was ready. Raising his shield, Talvyrn waited until Aggrox's swing was at its apex, bashing his shield into the Nob's choppa. Turning on the magnets, Aggrox found his choppa stuck to the shield as he tried to recover from the bash, letting Talvryn to chop off his bulging green arm with a single slice of his power sword. 

As the nob howled in pain, the choppa and accompanying arm stuck to Talvyrn's shield as he spun around and beat the Nob with the end of his own arm. In pain and bewildered by his own rebellious limb, Aggrox was more vulnerable than ever as Talvyrn rushed forward himself, slicing the ork's throat just deep enough so that he could grab the green head and force it back. Stabbing his sword into the now open neck of the Nob, Talvyrn pulled it straight out as blood and guts pour forth from the massive chest cavity he caused; Aggrox's evisceration celebrated with a dispaly of red mist and sparks as [i]Ironpride[/i] was pulled through his flesh and armor. The ork Nob made no more sound as he fell to the ground, head force back almost one hundred-eigthy degrees, snapping his spine like a twig as his organs poured forth onto the ground, soaking the earth red as they pilled out of his body.

Talvyrn let out a heavy breath as he established contact with Donvovan, miles above him right now.

"Brother! Thank goodness, I thought something horrible occurred to thou after thou suddenly dropped contact." Donovan exclaimed, his voice clearly sounding like he had just spent the last few minutes yelling into a vox-caster that remained silent.

"I just had a small parley with a wonderful Ork who called himself 'Aggrox' or something." Talvyrn reassured his brother, "Afraid he's no longer in any shape to continue our discussion though."

"Shame, I take it he was a fine conversation partner?" Donovan's chuckle crackled into Talvyrn's helmet.

"There be worser ones. Certainly not the most adept by any means either however." the Primarch joked back before returning to a more serious tone, "I shall be attempting to rendezvous with other forces currently on the planet."

"Understood, I shall continue to be at thou's disposal if thou requires services of mine."

Talvyrn swung his blade to clean it in the air using physics, watching the blood droplets fly off the blade and on to the ground as he changed channels, "Brother Erron, tis thine own brother Talvyrn. I have arrived to support and relieve your forces with my own legion, we landed as close as we could to your location but the cogitators dropped us further than expected. Do you know of the quickest way into thy location?"