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Regatus swung his hand backwards, the back of his fist impacting a descending warrior with such force that he could feel each individual rib that broke on impact, before the lifeless sack of meat and bone was launched away. The Corpse hurtled end over end, rag-dolling through the air in lazy spins before it impacted a wall hard enough to make a meaty splat. This had been the third person to attempt a dive attack on him, it was like pigeons splattering into the ground, utterly pointless. Yet each and every one of them did their best to defend their home, doing whatever they thought possible to stall the advance of the cadre of Transhuman soldiers. He was treated the same as his lessors, his 'Men'. It was an insulting comparison, but he understood why they did so, they were just human and there was not much difference when you craned you neck to see your killers.

He killed 2 more divers and 27 more men charging him from between the streets before the sector of the city he was moving through had been finally cleared. He saw dozens of others holding weapons, and yet they only stared at him from the doors of their homes, locked in place by the dread he saw caked across their faces. Their bodies refused to move against him, and he saw fit to simply pass them by, though it didn't matter because the Thunder Warriors behind him slew them all the same. The Bark of their guns continuously filling the air as he moved towards the final bastion of force in the area. A small garrison was nestled between two large stone walls, choking off access to another part of the city. He could easy bypass the point, in order to get to the part of the city he had been ordered to take. The Thunder Warriors seemed pleased with themselves, they cheered their joy with the fight, praising the Emperor and denoting their actions as for the Lord of Mankind but he knew different.

They were animals.

Brutes, Hammers with no finesse, they were killers given the power to kill better. They did nothing that did not involve the shedding of blood and he lamented it. They did not see the beauty in the structure of the city they assaulted, they did not see the results of long dead cultures carved into the walls. They did not see the advancement of Humanity, they ingenuity of men who crafted a living from dirt and stone, who learned to make cooler homes out of Mud and Sticks, who paved the way for all that came after. It was their greatest tragedy, with how zealously they sought total destruction of everything around them. While he would never deny the genius of his Master, he knew this to be necessary for the salvation of mankind. Unity above all else, Sacrifice for the advancement and restoration of Mankind's greatness among the stars must start with Terra itself. But in the end, it was still a pitiable loss of History. It brought him great sadness.

Yet he did it anyways.

These thoughts all went through his mind in the same amount of time it took him to cross the distance in order to make his way into the Bastion. The Thunder Warriors engaged after him, breaking down the walls and slaughtering all inside as he moved past everything. Another mural in sandstone had been painted with the blood of defenders, and Regatus purged it from his mind to focus ahead.

"Akus and Barnibus, move up the streets to the left. Engage the defenders as you see them, but secure the path quickly. Moritus move up the center, draw their attention to divert forces. Letticus move to the buildings roofs, kill the entrenched snipers and ambushers. Meet me again at the End of the street, we must take the Inner Gate." he said with a simple tone, keeping his words to them tight and controlled. It was time to move on to the next objective.

Heat, it was the first thing he felt, even wrapped in the shimmering cloths in his pod. The First Sensation he felt in his existence, was Heat, and he knew it was heat. Subconsciously, subliminally he understood what the new sensation washing over him was. It was heat unlike any other, beyond the simple fact his pod was burning through the simmering atmosphere, the world he was hurtling to was Hot. It was covered in heat so pure and simple, that its surface was more molten than solid. Rivers of liquid metal flowed down towering mountains of simmering gold. Yet it was not gold, it was Brass, Titanium, Aluminum all of these were glinting in the bright light of the Red Giant this world called its Sun. He could feel it, even protected as he was, the Heat.

The Heat, it was comforting. He felt its warm embrace caress him to his core, and it caused him to slumber deeper even through this hectic scenario. His pod was wrapped in fire, hurtling towards an unforgiving world wrapped in flame and metal, its ground caked with charred stone and vegetation so brutal its bark was partially metal as well. The lakes he passed over were perpetually boiling, sending plumes of white steam into the air like great pillars. His pod swerved, veering due to the drag, or something else entirely, sending it rocketing down into the crevices of the burning world into the cooler shadows.

His burning pod swerved once more, dipping into a Golden City, carved into the very walls of this great canyon. Gleaming marble, coated with decorative golden brass and filigreed silver Aluminum. The buildings style called back to the older Greco-Roman architecture of Terra's forgotten past. Great Palisades rising into the air, walls meant more for containing the citizenry than preventing an invasion. Yet the people that walked the streets seemed no worse for it all, nor for the heat. Their skin was like Pale Ash, deepening in color with some, with others being even paler than the majority. His pod passed over large Vending Areas, over guards and commoner alike. Shooting across this gleaming city, towards a pristine building situated at its center. Passing over the outer walls, his Pod finally crashed. Sending dirt and Stone flying in all directions as the pod finally was pulled from its great journey to rest at last.

He still slept, and yet even as he did so he could feel his blood shifting, his skin changing as his body adapted. As if it knew that the world he had landed on demanded a different sort of person to survive its intense climate. His skin became ashy white, the tone deepening only slightly. His veins swam black, then highlighted with a Brassy tone, and his eyes darkened with the whites bleeding to black and his pupils burning to that Golden Brass. He was aware, he could feel them coming, and so could the pod. Its covering retracting as voices whispered, swords and spears rattling even as the cock of guns and the whine of lasguns could be heard in the back. Yet they were silenced with a shout, as a Man and a Woman approached the pod. Covered in pure white vestments, with purple and gold embroidery along the edges. His Golden Eyes took in the first sight it had truly ever saw, the man and woman he would come to call Father and Mother. He was silent, he did not cry nor make any sort of sound, as he examined them and they examined he. The woman broke into a bright smile, reaching down she lifted his small form from the pod and held him aloft, as if to look at him more closely. He soon found himself buried in her bosom, her now revealed stomach with a slight turn of a curve revealing she was with child. He could tell, she was going to take him. To make him her child, yet he did not have the words for this, he simple understood it as a feeling.

They spoke hurriedly, as the Man dismissed the guards minus those they had take his pod back to the home. The woman cooing relentlessly at him, enraptured by him, drawn to him in ways she couldn't understand as her matronly instincts took over full force. "Baramidius, what shall we call him. He has come from the heavens, sent as a gift to us by the spirit beyond the sky." she said with a full smile bright and gleaming. The male came over, running an hand over the short hair on the childs head looked thoughtful for a moment. "Kargon, we shall call him Kargon. After the Great Hero of old, the one who captured star fire for his forge." he spoke, with a deep resounding voice.

The newly named Kargon looked at them both, before one of his hands reached up and pat against his mothers cheek, softly stroking it as he committed her and his fathers face to memory. He would always remember this moment.

He heard the cry of battle, the thunder of guns ringing in the air, and the sounds of Battle Cries cut short followed by either the moans of the dying, or the silence of the dead. There was a sort of artistry to the sounds of battle, the staccato screams of the damned and dying painting across the canvas that was the battlefield. Using the oldest paints know to mankind, the blood of its people, a work of art was being crafted in his Emperor's name. Truly, the pinnacle on Mankind he was, for only he could craft such beings so talented in the art of death as his brothers and sisters, and even his lessers the Thunder Warriors were proving their Martial worth today.

Though he found the artistry they employed to be brutish, without skill and finesse, lacking in all refinement and grace they only slathered the field with filthy finger paintings. An introductory work to be sure, but nothing worthy of the Emperor. They were a Hammer lacking chisel, stonework flying wildly with each strike, so did the mess they create sully that which he savored. Any joy he gained from his work, was offset by the barbarity. "Ugh, such animals." he whispered to himself, the sound only for his ears in the sealed compartment that was his helm. He wished for the presence of his brothers and sisters, yet had to content himself with the Thunder Warriors.

He held his axe at his side, the thrumming field of power giving the blade a thin blue hue as the golden filigree along the haft and handle ran with red blood. Many of the men dying today could have been spared, had they only understood and comprehended the great works the Emperor wished to enact. His Master was Grand, his scope of sight beyond all compare, and he only wished to uplift humanity. People however are loathe to let go of power, even meager amounts, in sacrifice to the great grandeur of humanity. Selfishness, pettiness, brutality, barbarity, and most reprehensible of all, Willful Ignorance.

Disgusting things, lacking in all refinement. How he wished to be back at the base, with brush in hand as he gazed at his canvas. He wished to bring life to the barren, not take it, yet he knew that this was his duty. "Duty unto Death, For Humanity, For our Emperor." he said resolutely. He opened his Vox, speaking to the Cadre of Thunder Warriors under him, ordering them forward in cohesion with the Champions own command. "Go Forth, Slay the Enemy of the Emperor. Do not fall behind the Advance." he said simply, before he stepped forward. Holding up his wrist, a wave of fresh enemy troops disappeared in chunks of sizzling flesh as he let bark the exact amount of rounds needed, minimizing Ammunition spending while maximizing effect.

He could only sigh at it all, staring down as their blood stained the sand, a macabre painting showing the futility of fighting against Change.

Harstein Thrace

AGE - 29


Rank: Regulator
Role: Planetary Enforcer

HOMEWORLD - Arterium
Few Arbites ever serve on their homeworld, with those that do being immensely privileged. Harstein Thrace is one such person, but not simply because of lucky, but because of station. As one of the few Sons of the Planetary Governor he was allowed to pick which field he wished to join much like his older brothers had been. Aside from the PDF or the Guard, or even one of the more Administrative positions he could have picked, he chose the Arbites.

Because he knew that is was something he could do to benefit his home, to help his people, and to show them that he and his family cared about them enough to fight for their safety at home. Many citizens extol the virtues of the Guard, yet forget the people who secure the peace at home and he would not be one of them. He would become one of his Divine Emperor's Enforcers of Law. He would uphold the word of law, under the gaze of the Emperor, and protect all citizens from those that would debase it. He would become the Law, and Judge those who dare think themselves above the Emperor's Judgement.

Harstein is an immensely devoted man, being the third son of the Governor he was guaranteed nothing in succession aside from wealth and safety. He needed for nothing, and nothing could be asked of him by others, and that sat ill with him. He watched as a young boy as the men and women of the Arbites fought the crime that had begun infesting the Hive City of his home. He saw the depravities of Babellum rising to the top, like sewage polluting the waters of a lake and it sickened him.

He watched as day by day, more and more of his home descended to anarchy and violence. How could we, as the Emperor's own people, allow this sort of injustice and disobedience to his Golden Eminence stand. It was then that Harstein promised to be hard, and uncompromising as the law dictated, as his Emperor would have done so himself. He would become the Hammer and Anvil upon which the Sinner and the Traitor would break, for what else could one be in defiance to the Sacred Law? As his Holiness Commands, Burn the Mutant, Kill the Alien, and Punish the Traitor. True Happiness stems from Duty, and there could be no greater Duty than Service to the Emperor's Imperium.


Harstein is the third son of the Planetary Governor of Arterium, with his older brothers serving their roles in the service of the Star System his family held stewardship over. He was slated for no defining role within the System that he could not find himself, and as his family has always believed, a Man can be worth nothing until he proves he is worth something. Each Son is required to serve the Imperium in some manner, be it Administratively or Militaristically, they must contribute to their chosen role.

His Eldest brother will become lord of Arterium and Master of the sector, and Harstein has no issue with that. His brother is talented and dedicated, and shall make an excellent heir for their father. Harstein however has always felt a strong sense of duty, even as a child. He watched the men and women in uniform, those Lawkeepers of the Imperium go about their hard duty with a sense of longing. He to wished to serve, to be a beacon of hope for another small child much like himself. To inspire and encourage one to service, and to one day prove to both his Father and his Great Emperor that he had not chosen poorly when the Thrace Family was put in charge of this world all those many centuries ago.

Harstein enjoys few vices, but he does enjoy drinks with those he would call friends as well as the sight of the Moonlight reflecting off the Sanguinalla flowers on the night of the full moon. The radiance they give in the sunlight is breathtaking yes, but the serenity of the Moonlight on the red petals drowns him in fields of silvery blood. He sometimes thinks he can see it, the great battle where the heroes of the Sanguine Hands fought to the last against the forces of the Great Traitor. He can hear the roar of battle, the sound of gunfire and even smell the fresh blood spilled in the name of the Emperor. The dreamy illusion shatters quickly enough though and he is filled with a sense of Duty Renewed each time.

Synford Pattern Lockshield
Adeptus Arbites Carapace Armour
Power Maul
Vox Legi-Pattern Arbites Combat Shotgun
Takara Palatine Compact Laspistol

Harstein is a simple man, and tends to be blunt. He will be straight forward with you and you can be assured that he does not lie, it is a trait he picked up from his position. He finds Lying, and those that do so to him, worth less than the air they just wasted. He does not give trust back to those who have broken his, and he will never trust a liar. He will forgive mistakes, but never an outright lie. He finds betrayal to be the most heinous of sins, but understands that there are some that do not do so purposely and he does differentiate. However he will not allow ignorance to pardon a crime, and will execute the law to the fullest based on the situation. He will simply not hate you for it as he would for those who do it despite knowing better.

He is single, and has not been slated by the Orders Famulous for a marriage yet. He has an immense respect and admiration for Sisters of Battle and Astartes, in particular any son of The Angel. He finds those men and women to be the height of service and duty, with their stalwart justice and faith being a shining example of what humanity can achieve with a sense of Duty and purity of purpose.
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