[hider=Zaphariel ibn Varranis] [color=orange][center][h1][u][b]The XIII Primarch[/b][/u][/h1][/center][/color] [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/908735300514246697/1004687185703878706/Jack_6.png[/img][/center] [color=orange][u][b]Primarch[/b][/u][/color] | [b]Zaphariel ibn Varranis[/b], Malik of the Illuminated Pandjoras Star Sultanate, Sheikh of the Star Serpent, Unifier of the Thirteen Houses, Child of the Hassan, Star Emir of the Dusk Sands, Master of the Suma’tah, Grand Faris of the Thirty Palaces, Grandmaster of the Assassins, Emissary of Falak, Nazim of the Seventy Sectors, Padishah of the Umbral Armada, Conciliator of the Three Hundred Worlds, the Arbitrator, Caliph of Neu Amalut, the Steel Companion, Grand Rival of the Dawn [color=orange][b][u]Legion[/u][/b][/color] | The Thirteenth Legion, the undying blades of the dusken lands of Achaemenid. A legion built with the concept stolen from ancient Terran legends in the desert sands of the middle-eastern continents. Their mutability is unparalleled, fashioned from the DNA strung from their Primarch’s ability to adapt to environments at a preternatural rate. Most of their number are referred to as dreamers, awaiting their promised primarch and growing aggressive over the time passed between the dreams of their progenitor. [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/667651180872204299/1033443984086937672/Solgriev_black_sand_black_sand_dunes_floating_arabic_palaces_du_24510874-6d27-48ae-9626-bea4aa059ef1.png[/img][/center] [color=orange][u][b]Homeword[/b][/u][/color] | [b]Pandjoras[/b]; The jewel of the serpentine Star Sultanate, once classified under Imperial record as a (“Civilized World”), resides in space as an arid beauty unparalleled in its savage nature. At the height of the Dark Age of Technology, Pandjoras was the crux of its region of space as the primary supplier and hubworld for the sector. The inhabitants of this desert world lavishly delighted in all of their amenities being met to such an extent that majority of their homes were lifted on anti-gravity mounts. Entire hovering palaces oversaw the automated process of a miniature empire within the realm of humanity. Vast aqueducts acted as the arterial veins that saw their world slowly reforming into a utopian paradise; however, doom met the sector when the Old Night split apart all the work of humanity. Pandajoras felt its death throes as the planet suffered an acute polarity shift in its magnetic core. Millions of anti-grav shunts fell silent leading to a sector-wide apocalypse that resulted in nearly five millennia of famine, death, and technological decay. From then on the golden grains of sand that blanketed the desert paradise became naught but warped, ashen fragments of dusk. Mere thousands survived the Old Night apocalypse on Pandjoras and untold numbers on other worlds connected to the former coreworld in the sector. The leviathan aqueducts that once saturated their world failed to survive the catastrophic onslaught of post-explosion graviton particles. The natural resources that dubbed the world the crown jewel of the sector were exhausted beyond tribulation. The Pandjorans could not flee their world, nor could their cries be heard to the greater beyond. Thus did the Pandjorans hide beneath the dusk tides of their dune sea in subterranean caverns where the natural lifeforms of the desert world prey upon the meek. Unknowingly, these caverns became the birthplace of the asasiyun and their hashshashin traditions. From the guidance of a lone, old man did the Pandjorans rise from the gray grains into their inhospitable world once more. Legacies of the Age of Technology were claimed, cannibalized, and reused to return to the lives their ancestors once had. Pandjoras, however, had significantly changed from oratory stories of their past. The gravity alone had warped along with its sands, vibrant springs of graviton particles pooled in malignant ponds, and hills had become imposing mountains. Hundreds of native born Pandjorans died in pursuit of bringing mankind back to the surface, yet they succeeded at the turn of the 30th millennia. The people had adapted, refitted their archeotech palaces, and walked the wastes astride specialized suits of powered armor fueled by the very material that had destroyed their civilization previously. Humanity walked the scarred surface of Pandjoras once again, but fate had other intentions for the Pandjorans. Conflict arose as to the legacy that would lead their people to prominence among the stars again. Wars erupted over petty squabbles of long dead inheritances. The old man that had guided their people ushered in the first House of the future Star Sultanate - The Caliphate House of Varranis. Those souls that had wholeheartedly believed in the old man banded as enclaves of assassins that either silenced or pushed the usurpers off-world. It was only the beginning of a long conflict but the House of Varranis had won and secured Pandjoras. Thus were the pillars of creation erected for the dwellers of the ashen sands to heartedly live above their subterranean homes. The old man continued to guide his people into building the modern infrastructure and veritable House that would rule the dusken wastes of their world. In the most modern term, Pandjoras has been restored to some level of technological height through the future efforts of Zaphariel and the sheer amount of archeotech rubble scattered across the planet. Instead of millions of hovering palaces in the Dark Age of Technology, there now reside a mere thirty that operate as both suborbital stations and bulwarks against foreign interlopers. Foreigners traveling the surface of Pandjoras are prone to extreme shifts in weight, requiring first time travelers to wear specialized suits of powered armor. On the surface, the black sands lay host to a variety of post-apocalyptic dangers such as graviton lakes and physics-defying serpents the size of mortal men. Despite its initial upheaval, the former desert world still remains hell scorching through the everlasting gray skies. Enormous refineries stretch the length of the planet, carefully harvesting the particles in an effort to return Pandjoras to it’s original beauty. [color=orange][u][b]Skills [/b][/u][/color]| [b]Weightless[/b]: Countless years spent in the strange, abnormal conditions set on Pandjoras grants those that withstand the planet’s atmosphere a level of permanent buoyancy and weightlessness. Zaphariel, and by extension Pandjorans, perform with insane ease within zero-G environments. This includes locations with remarkably heavy gravitational weight. This adaptiveness has allowed the Primarch to act as a flitting wraith in normal environments, further pushing his ability as a trained assassin and granting an air of lightness around him. Despite this special trait, Zaphariel and the Pandjorans must routinely weigh themselves down with adamantium augmentations and avoid extremely punishing blows lest their skeletal structure cave beneath the force. [b]Master of Coercion[/b]: Albeit less of a preternatural trait, Zaphariel is remarkable at convincing and manipulating those around him to act or perform the things that he wishes. This profound ability to weave words, dance around political games, and duck through near-galactic incidents has granted Zaphariel a form of impenetrable shield in most situations requiring any level of dialogue. While this skill is invaluable in regards to interacting outside of the Legion, it falls short when interacting with those within the Dusk Wardens. This is due to the fact that the Sons of Zaphariel require no coercion to blindly follow the orders of the Star Sultan, neither do those under the hierarchy of the Primarch require overt persuasion. This refined skill comes with the downside that those under his ‘thrall’ that awaken from their stupor, on the rare occasion, realize they’ve been coerced. [b]Suma’tah[/b]: One of the most intriguing abilities about the Primarch is his stumbling creation of a martial ka’tah. Suma’tah was born from the intrinsic fighting ability of the Star Sultan, the strict survival scenarios on Pandjoras, and the harsh lessons taught to him by the Master of Assassins. The suma’tah is the dance of the desert, twirling between grains of sand with the breath of the wind upon one’s lips. This fighting style focuses on nimble footwork, precision blade handling, and oneness. Stillness of the body allows for perfect control over one that is already considered genetically perfect. This bladework is slow, methodical, and utterly deadly; however, patient and immovable opponents are able to maneuver around this desert dancing technique. Before Zaphariel had met his Legion and the Emperor, he had simply thought it was necessary to learn as part of their furusiyya. A bastardized, imperfect version of this fighting style has been passed down from Legion Master to Lord Commander to below across the Dusk Wardens. [b]Eyes of Hassan[/b]: The mystical eyes of Hassan are the mutations granted simply by surviving on the dusk sands of Pandjoras. These are rumored to be gained whenever the ashen grains touch the bareskin of a person, others speak that it is the graviton pools that pollute the atmosphere. In truth, it is a combination of both. Graviton particles occasionally sublimate dusk grains into micro powder that infiltrate the retina and open porous’. Those with the Eyes of Hassan experience their retina turning orange and their pupils sharpened to slits, granting distinct predatorial eyes. An unusual side effect of the Eyes of Hassan, other than cosmetically, is the ability to physically see vibrations and changes in the wind. Zaphariel gained the Eyes of Hassan from an early age while left in the open air of Pandjoras’s volatile atmosphere; however, this mutation only further improved his abilities as a warrior and a hassassin. When the Legion arrived on the dusken sands to reunite with Zaphariel, he bade them walk into the deserts without a helmet such as he did. Now, as a process of initiation, Legion recruits will wash their eyes in a processed mixture known as the ‘Tears of Pandjoras’. [b]Grandmaster of Assassins[/b]: To the people of House Varranis, it is no secret that Zaphariel holds the title of Grandmaster to the Order of Assassins. The only recorded individual on Pandjoras to own such a title is only known as the old man of the mountain - Zaphariel’s adoptive father. The old man has passed on every single shred of knowledge known to him onto his adoptive son, molding him into the ultimate asasiyun. The title alone holds significance to those around him, one that he isn’t afraid to use in the appropriate circumstance. Through the old man’s training, Zaphariel can become one with the shadows or the twisting dusken sands of Pandjoras. Any tool was a weapon of assassination from a a grain of sand to a macroclade fleet. Any single individual was a body to utilize. These tenets passed onto his sons as a form of teaching from master to students. A hafiz in his own right. [color=orange][u][b]Assignment Grade[/b][/u][/color] | [b]Beta[/b]. The Malik of Pandjoras has never known, or never used, any form of offensive psionic ability to the best of his knowledge. His temperament had been perfect, controlled, and never prone to outrageous outbursts in fits of psionic energy. Instead, the psionic capabilities of the Star Sultan focused solely on improving his latent talents with biomancy. As a youth, Zaphariel unconsciously used forms of psionic persuasion to influence those around him; however, the old man of the mountain could never be swayed by such feeble talents. Although his adoptive father was no psyker, he understood the machinations of control. Alongside training Zaphariel as his successor, the old man taught the young Primarch oneness. In the height of his prime, Zaphariel has been known to excessively use biomancy psionic abilities that allow him to traverse great distances unhindered by wind pressure or control his cells on a molecular level. [color=orange][u][b]Concept[/b][/u][/color] | The Thirteenth Primarch, supplanted with the guile and spoken charisma of the Master of Mankind in genetic form. He alone bears a level of persuasion unparalleled in other beings of his kind, but he does not share the strength or fortitude of his siblings. Smaller and weaker, the Thirteenth proves his worth to the Emperor with his cunning, martial skill, and diplomatic prowess. Designed with the thought of a unifier in mind, the Thirteenth has proven his abilities through his accolades; however, his deceitful nature has only awakened doubts beyond peril within the vast expanse of his mind. This natural doubt evolved through the teachings of Pandjoras’ hassans, willingly accepting the ideology of weaponizing everything and everyone. Despite this, the Malik of Pandjoras readily accepts his siblings either in truthfulness or in an attempt to utilize them for future endeavors. [/hider] [hider=Legio XIII Bronze Scorpions] [color=orange][center][h1][b][u]Legio XIII Bronze Scorpions[/u][/b][/h1][/center][/color] [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/908735300514246697/988909274971394078/Brass_Scorpion_XVIII.png[/img][/center] [color=orange][center][h3]Assassin-Dreamers of the Thirteenth Primarch[/h3][/center][/color] [color=orange][u][b]Associated Primarch[/b][/u][/color] | Primarch Zaphariel ibn Varranis [color=orange][u][b]Concept[/b][/u][/color] | Those prophets, scum, and dreamers that survived in the harshest deserts out on the outskirts of the Achaemenid Empire had transformed into the Emperor’s personal scorpions. Whether they be born from the mountainous steppes bordering the region or from within the integrated realm of the Achaemenid, the Bronze Scorpions rose as the dusken facsimiles of their progenitor. Shrewd, cunning, and calculating warriors with brash charisma unrivaled amongst the first Astartes Legions. Like their far flung liege, the Scorpions retained the preternatural ability to adapt to environments and hone their martial craft; however, their bolstering forms were cursed with the Thirteenth’s frailness and thus saw little in the way of direct combat. Due to this, the Scorpions were seen for their namesake as insectile assassins that striked at the vulnerable flesh of their enemies. And so their reputation amongst the Legions, despite their Primarch’s recessive charisma, grew notorious through each and every conflict. Skullduggery became the norm for the Legion, enhanced only by their ruthlessness as they hoped and dreamed of meeting their progenitor. The Scorpions, however, retained their cultural fascinations and shared much in common with the ancient residents of the desert continent. Each of the Thirteenth Legion inscribed forgotten scripture on their armor for each victory, taking trophies of their enemies with them and adorning their plating with trinkets to prove their eventual worth to their liege. This further added to their infamy, others showing outright disdain for the crass and deceitful Astartes that continued to prove their worth. Thus did they grow insular, preferring the closeness of their Legion and forgoing [/hider]