[hider=Anton Jager]
[b]Name:[/b] Anton Jager. Primarch of the Imperial Pathfinders and High King of Sorus.

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Homeworld:[/b] Sorus. A feudal world with a single continent. The western half of the continent was of a temperate climate, and was once dominated by three kingdoms. The eastern half was wild and alien, with dense jungles, poisonous flora, monstrous fauna, and roving bands of orks. Protecting the western half of the continent was a single mountain range which split the land in two.

Before Anton’s arrival, the three kingdoms - Talendria, Daralt, and Gara - had been at each other’s throats, frequently engaging in border skirmishes over territory. From time to time, orks would attempt to send raiding parties over the fortified mountain passes, but these rarely succeeded. Seafaring exploration was rendered all but impossible, due to the several large and hostile beasts which dwelled in the planet’s oceans.

The dominant religion on the planet was the Church of the Four. “The Four” were in fact the Chaos Gods, worshipped under different names and in more benevolent guises, though obviously Anton and the rest of the planet are unaware of this.

Technology was mostly at the gunpowder era, though each kingdom did have at least one old spacefaring vessel and a small arsenal of high tech weaponry at their disposal - most of it no longer functioning.

Between the arrival of Anton and later the Emperor, all this would change. The three kingdoms have long since been unified under one banner, and a fourth nation - the island of Republic of Naris - had been rediscovered and brought into the fold. The inhabitants now see themselves as Sorusian before Talendrian, Garan, Daraltian, or Narisian. The Imperium’s advanced technology had been introduced to the world, greatly improving its economy, industry, and quality of life.

The worship of the Four was banned. Although many were outraged, some had been swayed by the Imperial Truth’s logic, while others were simply relieved to no longer have to pay church tithes or “mandatory donations.” Worship of the Four still persists to this day within underground cult movements, but the majority of the planet has long since moved on.

With the Imperium’s support and leadership, the locals underwent rapid expansion over the mountains, driving back the orks and taming the harsh land, so that they could now harness the rich resources underneath.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Anton is eleven and a half feet tall, with short blond hair and bright green eyes. He has a light skin tone and a rugged face, with a scar above his right eye and another along his left cheek, and some short stubble in the way of facial hair. Like all primarchs, he possesses superhuman strength and agility, although he tends to favour the latter over the former.

The armour he wears is a dark green - almost black - with a silver trim. His legion’s personal emblem - a beheaded black serpent over a white background - is painted on each pauldron. He carries a vicious straight power sword with a black blade, a single bolt pistol, and an advanced high-tech sniper rifle that is similar in design to the Exitus Rifle (which doesn’t exist yet.)

[b]Personality:[/b] Anton can often come across as distant, stoic, and grim. The Primarchs who were found early on in the crusade, and those Legionnaires who had been with him from the beginning, remember a time when he was friendly, cheerful, and affable. No longer. The losses he had endured over the years and the things he had witnessed weighed on him. They did compromise his ability to do his duty, but they have left their mark.

Despite this coldness, he cares deeply for the lives of his legion and the men placed under his command, and will become enraged if they betray him or are sacrificed needlessly. He also has a deep interest in the history and culture of the planets he comes across, and will sometimes order his men to salvage particularly fetching works of art, which are then sent back to either Terra or Sorus as gifts, or to his flagship to serve as decorations. Anton also retains his aristocratic manners, holding meetings with primarchs and his underlings over cups of tea, taking pains to be courteous, and disapproving of vulgarity.

Although he generally tries to avoid needless sacrifices of human life, he understands that death is an inevitable part of war, and sometimes thousands must die in order to save millions. There was once a time when he would have hesitated, or questioned it, but no longer. If it comes down to it, he will harden his heart and do what needs to be done for the greater good. He is a staunch believer in the Imperial Truth.

As for his thoughts on the Edict of Tolerance… there was once a time when Anton would have supported it. Unfortunately, the two instances which he did invoke it were failures, with the latter resulting in heavy casualties. While he does believe that some species are capable of co-existing with humanity, he has yet to encounter one, and he’s not willing to put the lives of his legion or his fellow humans at risk in order to uncover one.

Lastly, it should also be noted that Anton holds a disdain toward psykers, believing that meddling with one’s mind is extremely immoral, and that widespread usage of the Warp will eventually backfire.

[b]Skills:[/b] Anton excels at ranged combat. Compared to most of his fellow primarchs, his accuracy and vision are unmatched, capable of landing shots with pinpoint accuracy from seemingly impossible ranges. This is his preferred method of combat, leading some to doubt his skills as a warrior, but those who have seen him in action know he is just as skilled with a blade.

His arsenal consists of a power-sword with a black blade, a pair of bolter pistols, and a high-tech long-ranged sniper rifle of his own design (it more or less looks and functions almost exactly like the Exitus Rifle.)

From a tactical standpoint, he is a master at small-unit tactics, making him an excellent commander of skirmishers, raiding parties, and strike forces. He also excels at inspiring and motivating his men.

Off the battlefield, Anton possesses other skills. Although not a master diplomat, he is a reasonable and level-headed man, well-versed in the powers of persuasion, with a tendency to try diplomacy when hotter heads might attack. He is also a skilled gunsmith, designing custom-made weapons for himself and his legion. In fact, the rifle he uses is one of his own design.

[b]Assignment Grade:[/b] Kappa.

[b]Biography:[/b] Anton arrived in the feudal world of Sorus, landing in the countryside of Talendria. The nearby village, in awe at this mysterious child which fell from the sky, decided to take him in. He was put in the care of a local rancher, who named him Anton.

Eventually, word of this strange child from the stars spread. A group of travelling scientists, who had come to investigate the the fall of his capsules, visited him a few days later. They took his ruined capsule to study, and wished to take the boy as well, but the locals refused to give him up. A group of monks arrived a few weeks later, also wishing to take the boy in - believing his arrival to be of deep religious significance - but they too were refused.

Then, finally, three months after his discovery, a company of soldiers arrived directly from the capital, with orders personally written and signed by Talendria’s King. The boy would go with them, and this time the villagers could not refuse. He was taken to Talendria’s court, where the royal family took this strange miraculous child as a ward. 

Like the rest of the Primarchs, he grew at a rapid pace, reaching the size of a fully grown human within three years. He excelled at everything he was taught and always craved more. However, as he studied within the safety of the Palace’s walls, debates soon sparked in the outside world as to his significance. 

The local clergy claimed he was a gift from the Four, and cited his miraculous growth and superhuman feats as proof. They claimed he was destined to unite the Sorusian people and lead them to greatness.

The local science communities, however, took a far more rational approach. They claimed his existence was not divine in nature, and that he instead hailed from a planet of humans that was more technologically and biologically advanced than their own. They pointed to his high-tech capsule as evidence, and expressed a concern that whoever sent or lost him might one day come to claim him.

The young Anton was sheltered from these debates at first, but it was not long before he was eventually made aware of both sides of the story, and it left him deeply conflicted. If he was sent by some divine force, then it was his duty to guide and direct these people as much as possible. And yet, his homeworld’s religion had left a bad taste in his mouth, because he couldn’t help but find a number of small logical inconsistencies, or make note of the self-serving undertones, which made him question the validity of the religion’s doctrine as a whole. He became agnostic, though he kept these thoughts to himself.

Meanwhile, if the other theory was true, then wouldn’t his duty instead be to find a way to return home? To reunite with his true family, or whoever had sent him here in the first place?

Yet there could also be a middle option. He was not sent here by any divine power, but he was sent to serve these people nonetheless. It was this internal compromise that Anton eventually made peace with, and although stating these beliefs publicly did not fully halt the debates, they did quiet them. But the question remained: in what manner was he to serve people?

The answer to that was obvious. He had always been especially gifted in the art of war. Even as a boy, no man on the planet could match him with a sword or pistol, and his understanding of the academic side of warfare was on par with most generals. Only his size and age had prevented him from entering military service. But now he was taller, stronger, and smarter than any other man. None could deny that he was ready. 

The King was more than happy to grant him an officer’s commission in the Royal Grenadiers, the royal family’s personal guard and Talendria’s most prestigious infantry regiment. He quickly worked his way up through the ranks, because with the King’s patronage and his natural talent, the only obstacle that stood his way was the availability of commissions. He reached the rank of Major and could rise no higher, for all the Lieutenant-colonel posts were currently occupied, and he was not going to offend the man who was both his royal patron and adoptive father by transferring to a less prestigious regiment.

Meanwhile, Anton had also come to realize just how broken Talendria’s military system was. In times of peace, commissions could only be acquired through purchase, and only in war were they granted on merit. Additionally, there was no formal military training or education system. This meant promotion was determined not by qualifications, but by who had the most wealth or influence. It was a sobering revelation, because he quickly realized that without the support of the King, he might never have become an officer at all. 

He raised these issues in person to the King, and although the King agreed with most of his points, he nonetheless refused to reform the army, citing political and economic concerns.

Meanwhile, it soon turned out that a Major in the Grenadiers on “active duty” had very little to do during peacetime, beyond shuffling papers behind a desk or standing as a glorified bodyguard. 

Naturally, that was not enough for Anton, so in every moment he could spare he sought out other ways to occupy himself. He spoke with men from other branches of the military: cavalrymen, marines, naval officers, engineers, and artillerymen. He then sought out people from outside the military, but were just as vital to its maintenance: gunsmiths, blacksmiths, stablemasters. Such men were considered beneath the notice of a highborn aristocratic officer, but by seeking them out, Anton expanded his mind in ways that his formal education and training hadn’t. Especially with the latter groups, for in learning how exactly muskets were designed and crafted, he soon wondered how to improve the weapon’s design.

The musket was a notoriously inaccurate weapon. Battles often came down to who had more men or could fire more quickly, because if enough shots were fired, some would inevitably find their mark. There was a weapon that was more accurate, however: the rifle. Unfortunately, most rifle designs were unsuited for large scale warfare. 

Anton resolved to fix this, and with his natural intellect he eventually came up with a new design. One that was lighter, more accurate, and easier to maintain than any other rifle design at the time. He then considered how such a weapon would be used in battle, and concluded it would be better utilized in the hands of dedicated skirmishers and marksmen in support of the main body of the army, which would still be armed with muskets. He then wrote an in-depth book on light infantry tactics which would serve as the basis for such a force’s doctrine.

Anton proposed this idea directly to the King, who eventually came around to the idea. Not only did he agree to adopt the design, but he also decided to fund a new regiment… with Anton as its Colonel. And thus, the Royal Rifle Regiment was founded. Its men were handpicked from the ranks of the rest of the army, based on their ability to shoot accurately and think independently, and each officer who wished to join was scrutinized heavily by Anton himself.

Although many were doubtful of the regiment’s necessity, especially since the King had to raise taxes in order to create it, it would soon get a chance to prove itself three years later.

The Orks on the eastern half of the island were a series of divided warbands, constantly fighting with one another, whilst occasionally attempting to break through the fortified mountain passes of Gara and Daralt. All of these attempts had been beaten back by superior fortifications and weaponry of the human defenders. So long as the Orks remained disunified, they would never break through. And it was believed that the Orks, barbaric savages that they were, were never capable of such cooperation.

Which is why it came as a massive surprise when the Orks [i]did[/i] unify, under the leadership of the Ork Warlord known as Groshab, and led a massive WAAAGH! through the northern mountain pass. Although they took heavy casualties, they were able to overrun the defenders through sheer numbers, before spilling into the countryside of Gara. The Garan army attempted to repulse them, but was slaughtered.

When news of this defeat reached Talendria, the King immediately mobilized his forces. If Gara fell, Talendria would be next, and they had no fortified mountains or natural defenses to keep out invaders. The Orcish incursion needed to be dealt with quickly, on the field of battle. And so the King personally led his army northeast, into Gara itself.

When the time came to meet the WAAAGH! in battle, the King chose a very conventional means to fight the enemy. The artillery was placed upon a hill, with the infantry lined up in front, and the cavalry would circle around to strike the Orks in the flank. Anton and his riflemen were to be deployed ahead of the enemy, with orders to pick off as many warbosses as possible before retreating to the safety of the infantry formations.

Warlord Groshab, seeing the humans arrayed in such a manner, did not bother with intricate tactics. Believing sheer numbers would be enough to break through the thin Talendrian line, he ordered a frontal charge.

It was Anton himself who fired the first shot of the battle.

It was not the custom for an officer to carry a longarm such a musket or a rifle, but Anton did; a decision which was regarded as more than a little eccentric. He scanned the approaching horde, and with his incredible sight, he was able to identify the leader of the WAAAGH!: Groshab himself. Shouldering his rifle, he took aim and fired, shooting the Warlord through the eye, at a range which have been considered almost impossible even by riflemen standards.

As their leader fell, the Orkish horde paused. Never before had they seen one of their own fall to a human firearm at such a range. Their own leader, no less. The pause lasted only for a moment, and then another Warboss stepped up to take Groshab’s place. 

Anton shot him as well, with a second rifle passed to him by one of his own men, who was now reloading the first rifle. Anton traded the second rifle for a third, and then killed another Ork leader. The horde soon fell into chaos, as warbosses began fighting each other on the field over who would get to take command. One warboss would kill another, only for Anton to kill him, and then [i]his[/i] underlings would begin feuding amongst themselves for command of that one individual warband. It is said that Groshab survived the first shot, and eventually tried to stand up to retake command, only for Anton to shoot him through the other eye.

Then artillery shells began to rain down upon the Orks, killing hundreds. Finally, they came to their senses, and instead of fighting over who would hold the title of warlord, the individual warbosses all ordered their warbands to attack at once. 

When the Orks approached, the rest of the Riflemen did as they were ordered, firing well-aimed shots at those who seemed to be in charge. Then they fell back, fleeing for safety behind the infantry. Anton himself joined the battle line, and as the Orks came approached point-blank range, the Talendrian army unleashed a thunderous volley. 

The surviving Orks came running out of the smoke, and a desperate melee ensued. They were just about to break through a section of the line when Anton led his riflemen back into the fray, joining the melee with fixed bayonets. It was said that Anton personally slew half a hundred Orks during the fighting. Then the cavalry struck the Ork horde in the flank, which is what finally broke them.

The Talendrians emerged victorious, but at great cost: they had lost a third of their army. The Orkish army, its leadership removed, scattered into roving bands in the countryside. While men were deployed ahead to recapture, repair, and refortify Gara’s mountain fortress, the rest of the army remained in Gara to deal with the Orks who had escaped the battle. Once more, Anton and his riflemen proved their usefulness, using their skills at hunting and skirmishing to track down and destroy the savage warbands. Anton himself became something of a folk hero to the Garan people, with tales of him singlehandedly defending entire villages.

But even after the Garan countryside had almost been swept free of Orks several years later, the Talendrian army remained, and it soon became apparent that they had no desire to let the country retain its independence. This might have sparked rebellion, but after nearly being annihilated by the Orks, the people were weary from war and feared what would happen if the Talendrian soldiers within their borders suddenly withdrew. 

Additionally, the King of Talendria had appointed Anton as the Military Governor of Gara, tasking him with rebuilding the region and hunting down the remaining Orks. It was due to this reason that, when Daralt declared war on Talendria a year later - ostensibly to liberate Gara and put Talendria’s influence in check - Anton did not accompany the rest of the army south, and instead turned his attention to administering the lands.

He soon proved to be an effective administrator as well as a soldier, rebuilding roads and infrastructure, and finding ways to pay for it despite the increasing war taxes. He toured the region and personally inspected the areas most heavily affected by the war, while taking the time to cozy up to prominent nobles. Tales of his mysterious backstory had spread to Gara as well, and the local church quickly adopted the narrative that he was a gift from the Four, which did much to boost his image. Although some Garans resented him, very few made attempts at open rebellion.

The war between Talendria and Daralt ended two years later in a stalemate, with neither side able to gain much ground. Anton continued to serve at his post with diligence, until eleven years later when he was called back to the capital. 

The King was dying.

On his deathbed, the King spoke to Anton alone. He revealed that he had always wanted to see Sorus unified, and regretted that he may die before that wish was fulfilled. He then went on to say that Anton had proved a capable leader in both war and peace, and claimed that there was no one else more fit to rule a unified Sorus. After that, the King called in his courtiers, and before two dozen witnesses, claimed that Anton was to marry his daughter, and the two would rule jointly. This was a controversial decision, as it set aside the King’s presumed heir, Prince Willard.

Two years later, King Anton marched on the nation of Daralt with a combined army of Talendrians and Garans. With his superior numbers and generalship, he bested their army in the field and quickly laid siege to their capital, taking it by storm. But after the battle had been won, his army broke discipline, and began looting the city, inflicting countless horrors on his populace. 

Anton was ultimately forced to build a gallows in the city center, and threatened to start arresting and hanging looters if they did not cease. Although they stopped, Anton’s eyes had been opened to a harsh reality of war he had not previously been exposed to.

The rest of the country soon capitulated. Yet despite the nobility issuing a formal surrender, the commoners were displeased. In Daralt, Anton lacked the heroic reputation he had earned throughout Talendria and Gara. To the Daraltians, he was nothing more than a foreign conqueror, who imposed his soldiers onto their households and stole their food. 

The men and women of Daralt fled into the countryside, becoming partisans, and Anton was forced to fight them. It was a type of warfare he had waged against Orks, but never against fellow humans. Infuriated by the constant attacks on their patrols and supply lines, some of his men even began to take their anger out on local villagers and townspeople, who were believed to be aiding the rebels.

Anton did his best to reign these attempts in, but as high up as he was in the chain of command, there was little he could do to directly intervene. Meanwhile, repeated assassination attempts were made against him, but he survived every single one.

There were many nights when he was tempted to withdraw from the country altogether, but he knew that wasn’t the best solution. If he withdrew his soldiers and left the locals to pick up the pieces, there was no guarantee Daralt would be able to pull itself together again. And what if they faced another Ork WAAAGH!, or some other threat? Order had to be brought to this land one way or another.

So instead of attempting to stop the reprisals, he began ordering them. With his masterful deduction skills, he was able to correctly identify which villages and towns were aiding partisans, and deployed his men to deal with them. At first, these brutal measures only caused the partisan attacks to increase, as the partisans became more furious and the local civilians became more sympathetic to their cause. But eventually they became too much for the partisans to bear, and the attacks began to dwindle, until eventually they ceased.

Finally, Anton could return home.

He spent the rest of his time in Sorus continuing to administer his new kingdom, making a number of social and military reforms while attempting to repair the damage he had wrought during the pacification of Daralt - partly of guilt, and partly out of a need for efficiency. Daralt made another attempt at rebellion, but it was half-hearted, and Anton easily crushed it.

In his spare time, he also tinkered with some of the old pieces of advanced tech stored deep within Talendria’s vaults, becoming intimately aware of their designs, and even repairing some of them to become functioning again. The means to reproduce such weapons were not currently within his grasp, but it had rekindled his desire to learn more about the universe beyond his one small planet.

Then, in M30.837, a visitor arrived.

[b]The Meeting:[/b]
The crown was heavy on Anton’s head. His wife looked to him uncertainty, from the smaller throne next to his, but he gave no indication that he had seen; his gaze was fixated on the long figure who stood before him.

The visitor stood before the throne in shining golden armour, the likes of which had never been seen before. He was tall; almost as tall as Anton himself. His vessel had appeared in the sky of Talendria’s capital without warning. The landing craft had descended into the city’s square, and he had been allowed an audience at once, bypassing all the waiting petitioners. None dared complain.

When the court herald asked the stranger how he was to be announced, he had asked to only be announced as “The Emperor.” Who was this man, to claim such a lofty title, but no name to go with it, and no additional titles or achievements beneath it? The herald had been reluctant, but ultimately did not question him.

The ‘Emperor’ approached the throne, and the courtiers unleashed a collective gasp when he did not kneel. He did not even speak, and instead looked Anton directly in the eye. By all rights, Anton could have ordered him thrown out of the palace right then and there.

But he didn’t.

Because, as Anton looked upon the stranger, a sense of recognition filled him. Slowly, he removed his crown, and laid it on the armrest of his throne. Then, he rose to his feet, approached his father, and knelt before him. 

“You know who I am?” the Emperor questioned.

“I do,” Anton nodded, “but I do not know why you have come.”

“It is time for you to return the fold. For you, this world you have united will be just the beginning. The Great Crusade is underway. Join me, march alongside your brothers and sisters, and aid me in my quest to bring order and prosperity to all mankind, as you have brought it to this planet.”

There were several long moments of silence, as Anton considered the Emperor’s words. Then he stood up, and dismissed his court. The guards remained, so he dismissed them as well. Once the room was clear, he turned back to his creator.

“You mentioned brothers and sisters?” Anton asked, with some apprehension.

“You are not alone,” the Emperor told him. “There were nineteen others like you. All were lost, and scattered across the cosmos. You are the fifth to be found, but before this crusade is over, I will see all the others returned to me.”

“And what is this crusade?” Anton inquired, taken aback by the revelation, but still wishing to move on to the more pressing issue.

“Long ago, humanity once built a star-spanning Empire. That Empire crumbled, and the technology of its planets was set back centuries if not millennia,” the Emperor explained, and Anton nodded, for he knew this firsthand. 

The Emperor continued speaking. “I intend to reunite humanity. By word, or by force. I will cast aside all delusions and superstitions, and replace them with science and logic. I will put a stop to humanity’s infighting, and destroy those who would destroy us, so it can achieve its full potential.”

By word… or by force. “Millions will die,” Anton realized. “Countless worlds will burn.” The thought of going back to war - war on a galactic scale, no less - gave him pause. He had thought he was done with war, but clearly he had been too hopeful.

The Emperor frowned. “Across the stars, mankind slaughters itself in the name of false idols, and lives in needless poverty or isolation. Your world’s struggles were light compared to the rest. Millions will die regardless of whether this Crusade will happen or not. The difference is, we will be preventing further destruction in the long-term.”

It was a daunting task, and one that carried an immense burden. It would have been incomprehensible to a lesser mind. But Anton was a Primarch. And as the Emperor spoke, Anton instinctively understood the scope and sense of his vision. 

More importantly, he had also heard the conviction in the Emperor’s voice, and he knew that refusal was not truly an option. His planet now belonged to the Imperium. If the Primarch did not yield it, then the Emperor would take it.

So without another word, the Primarch nodded his assent.
[/hider]