The XVIIth Legion Alercona Bluffs, Delos Hive Outerlimits - Praxia
Though tradition called for the ascension of Neophytes to take place on the highest point available, Nelchitl had taken her own personal liberties this time around. She relinquished that perhaps her sisters’ flair for the dramatic had swayed her decision as she took in the vista before her from the altar at which she stood.
Directly in front of the altar stood two hundred and thirty-seven Neophytes, replacements all of them, were arranged in the form of one of the great Serpents of Ixhun, jaw agape as if to strike. They were clad in the armor of fully-fledged Astartes, though they wore no helmets and possessed no markings to denote company or position. She gazed upon them each in turn as she stood at the raised dais and watched as pride and admiration swelled in their faces at the personal recognition from their Scion. Directly to her right, arranged in neat formation sat an identical number of Astartes helmets. The helmets themselves were separated by color, with cyan the standard color of all the rank-and-file within the Serpents making up the majority of those helmets arranged before her. As she moved her eyes over the helmets she frowned as she picked out a group of some twenty white helmets marked by the office of the Apothecarium. As she moved to the final helmets in the formation she stopped on the two that stood separate to their peers, a pair of completely white helmets, the sign of a Serpent veteran standing silent command over the rest of the helmets arranged behind them.
She smiled as she recalled the intense argument that had taken place between her Company Commanders over which of the Neophytes had truly earned such an honor on Praxia as to be inducted into the First Company at their ascension ceremony. Though she had always planned to differ to the judgment of her First and Second Captains, Nelchitl had gained a good amount of enjoyment from her commanders' exasperation at their Scions seeming inability to decide on the most deserving Neophytes.
The wind shifted atop the Alercona Bluffs, a cold wind pushing in from the East prompted the Primarchs gaze to shift to the view behind her. Delos Hive lay in the distance, vast swathes of the urban sprawl lay in ruin, pillars of smoke still streaming high into the atmosphere, and uncontrolled fires consuming entire districts even as the war came to its close. That this, the cost of their rebellion, was the last thing that these traitors would see before they gave themselves to the Emperor in repentance was something of poetry in motion. Nelchitl wondered if she should have invited her sisters if only so they could witness the theatrics she had managed here.
Turning to face the line of traitors before the altar Nelchitl moved quietly to its stone edifice, running her fingers along its rough-hewn surface at a deliberate pace. Her fingers brushed over the ritual blade that had been laid out at the center of the altar and curled around it. Raising it toward the city she began a slow chant of devotion to the sun, a simple prayer of her homeworld, meant to signal the rising of the light and the outset of a new day. As she spoke in hushed tones, rays of light began to spring forth from beyond its skyline. With the final words of the prayer, the Praxian sun crested the city's outline, casting it in long shadows where the light met the mile-high pillars of smoke and washing large portions of the rest of the city in the warm glow of sunlight.
She turned to the first traitor in line, the man's face racked with terror as he stared upon Nelchitl. “Come.” she spoke softly, barely audible to those around her and yet the man stepped forward, the Primarchs words an irresistible command to the mere mortal.
With a single hand, she grabbed the man by his neck lifting the traitor from his feet, his eyes wandered past Nelchitl’s form as she raised him up no doubt to take in the view of Delos Hive bathed in the light of the very being he had betrayed.
With a slow reverence, the Emerald Priestess brought the ritual dagger up, silently slipping it under the man's ribs with little more than a surprised gasp as reaction. Warmblood ran down the blade and onto Nelchitl’s arm, quickly turning her bare chest and the only item of clothing she wore, a traditional off-white cueitl of Ixhun’s Priesthood of the Sun, a deep red.
With a twist of the blade, the Emerald Priestess opened the traitor's chest wide before dropping him onto the altar. Leaving the blade lodged in the man she reached both hands into the pooling blood within him. She looked upon her daughters as her hands remained immersed in the fading life of the man before her and locked eyes with the first Neophyte among their ranks. With little more than a nod, the Neophyte stepped confidently to the altar, dropping to a knee before her Primarch. The Neophyte raised her eyes to look directly into her Scion’s, and with calm piety, she spoke.
“Let the Sun rise upon this day my Lord.”
“He smiles upon it.” the Emerald Priestess responded as she gazed lovingly across her assembled daughters, each of their faces bathed in the warmth of the sun from behind her shoulder.
“By your command, I stand your servant.” the Neophyte continued with a hint of apprehension in her words. The Emerald Priestess felt affection rise in her chest as she looked upon the Neophyte in understanding her anxiety at being first among her peers.
The Emerald Priestess nodded and the Neophyte rose slowly to her full height.
“By my command, you rise His servant.” the Emerald Priestess paused as she took the heart of the traitor from within him and held it out for the Neophyte before her, “You rise Astartes.” she intoned privately, only loud enough for the daughter before her.
Without hesitation Sister Yaretzi took the heart from the Emerald Priestess and began to devour it. At the same time, Nelchitl stepped slowly around her daughter, her hands dripping in gore as she painted the company numbers and position markings on Yaretzi’s armor as her daughter ate. Giving the markings a once over and satisfied with the job, Nelchitl stepped back to her original position and gave a nod to her daughter.
The Serpent stepped away and toward the formation of helmets stopping at the head of the formation. Nelchitl watched with a smile as her daughter knelt down and picked up a white helmet and sealed it to her armor, taking the place of the helmet in at the head of the arranged formation.
She turned once more to the Neophytes and the line of traitors before her, “Come.” she repeated.
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The death wrought throughout the final bastion of traitorous resistance within Delos Hive was astounding. Her daughters lay in scores, crumpled and unmoving, with the number of Imperial Army surrounding them far more than Nelchitl was comfortable counting. The numbers crunched in the mind of the Emerald Priestess were nearly enough to dampen her mood as she stormed forward in a flurry of death at those traitors fool enough to meet a Primarch in direct combat. She swung her massive chainsword in a sweeping ark in front of her, eviscerating a cohort of armored humans in the strange power armor that many of them further into the final hive spire were equipped with. She revved the chainsword, its teeth spinning wildly as she did, freeing bits of armor and flesh alike as she finished the math in her mind and despaired at the losses her Daughters and the human Auxilia must be suffering storming the last sanctum in the hive.
Her vox crackled into life, filling her helmet with the distorted voice of a man in the midst of combat. “The 250th is halted in--” the transmission was drowned out by the sounds of massed gunfire and a sizable explosion that Nelchitl could feel through the soles of her armor, “--assistance required urgentl--” the transmission cut completely and the Primarch found her already burning rage stoked further at the thought of the Emperor’s chosen in such desperate need.
“Communications, get me the last station's location. Send me the 31st Company at all haste, and reroute the nearest Exertus forces to assist at once.”
There was a curt response and a data burst quickly streamed into the Emerald Priestess’ helmet.
Nelchitl felt an unusual emotion welling in her chest as anxiety began to grip her. She continued to fight, felling groups of the armored traitors in flashes of plasma and brutal strikes of her chainsword. All the while she brooded on the happenings about this world. Her daughters were heavily engaged at every turn, House Cadaval; lauded and venerable; had lost several of their exalted machines, and there seemed no end to the engagement as the Imperial forces inched forward into the traitors bleeding for every step. Their numbers were great, their equipment advanced and unknown even to the Tech Priests of Mars, their tactics seemingly hand-tailored to counter the armored shock tactics of the Emperor’s Angels. The depth of betrayal on 20-63, on Praxia, was beyond the scope that Nelchitl had ever thought possible in her Emperor’s Imperium.
There was far more going on here than so seemed. She required answers, she required more forces; more ships, more equipment, and more men. She crunched the numbers and silently relished in the short releases of violence as she tore her way forward. More than anything, she required the guidance of her Sister.
Opening a private vox line directly to the Huntress. Nelchitl spoke quickly, the frustration in her voice evident, “Sister, we must end this at once. We take far too many losses, my committed companies are becoming no more than tatters. I fear your daughters fare much the same.” a coded data-burst would be sent between the two Primarchs containing the position of the Exertus regiment as she continued on, “I move to assist an Exertus regiment and have vectored more forces to assist, join me and we shall finish this in one final stroke.”
As her sister’s voice reached her, Sekhmetara rode the winds of rage. She allowed the emotion to surge through just as much as she drifted across the air herself, the modified chassis of her jetbike roaring beneath her as she regarded the vast battlefield of the traitor hive below her, drawing closer to the towering central spire which comprised their final objective. They had won every battle, yet they were losing the war. Losing because there was information and factors they were not privy to, a state of affairs that enraged her more than anything else. Her daughters were the fine blade, measure twice, cut once. Now they were swinging wildly in the dark. Still, her daughters may have been precise by the standards of her expansive, varied family, but they were still Astartes. For every one which died, the rebels bled in their hundreds. It was not a trade she would allow to continue.
“As you say Sister, I fight with you.” Sekhmetara replied, before she lunged from the saddle of her vehicle. From the streamlined armour of her suit, blade like wings extended, a series of grav-chutes of much larger design to account for her Primach build, the Queen of Mithra surged through the air, tucking her form into itself as she crossed the distance to the spire. Her form struck the observation glass panel she was aiming for with the force to turn an Astartes into a smear, but likewise enough to shatter the reinforced glass. She was not Astartes, and her armoured form wrenched through it, barely checking her momentum. She was falling, but to those within, she was akin to an avenging angel falling from the heavens themselves, surging into the vast chamber beyond. The enemy were rallying to engage her sister’s position within the same hall, they would never get the chance. The Huntress fell among them, the long, slender haft of her glaive spinning about her in a movement that was as much a dance as it was warfare. With every slight turn of her body and weapon, lesser humans died. The mysterious power armour the more elite rebels wore could turn aside bolter fire, but it could not turn aside her. Her weapon sliced through Ceramite with the barest pop of pressure, the human within each suit turned to jelly by the sudden expansion of force and heat. Her sister killed as well, perhaps with less grace, but with insurmountable aggression which more than made up for their difference in efficiency of movement. Two whirlwinds of death storming towards each other. The final foe sought to hold her in combat for a moment, a figure which would have towered over a mortal man wreathed in armour more akin to the tactical dreadnought armour spreading throughout the legions. Flensing claws wreathed from gauntlets as the being yelled a challenge to her.
She did not have the time or will for a duel with mortal traitors. As the human began his charge, a blazing halo of solar light bathed around her features, her human-like eyes becoming obscured by golden light, before the power leapt from her. The gifts of her birth made manifest, the streams of white hot energy forced into reality burned through the air, striking the traitor with enough force and heat as to render them into cauterised flesh and ash in moments. Sekhmetara did not suppress the sneer as she regarded what had become of an enemy that had thought themselves worth more than the briefest moment of her time, before turning to regard her approaching sister.
“My daughters will keep them from reinforcing the holdout, we cut off the head here.”
Were it any other day, any other war, Nelchitl may have found herself incredibly moved by the preternatural resemblance her Sister held to the Emperor on that fateful battlefield of Ixhun where they first met. Descending from the heavens as if held aloft by unseen wings, Sekhmetara unleashed a dazzlingly brilliant psychic assault on a mere mortal fool enough to stand in the way of the furious Primarch. Like the appearance of her father, Nelchitl watched as the radiance of a star was unleashed on the traitor, leaving only ash where they had once stood defiant before the closest thing to a demigod the universe may have to offer.
Coming alongside her sister, Nelchitl placed a gauntleted hand on her shoulder and raised her chainsword to point toward the still resisting traitors.
“One swing of the blade and we finish this action.” she scowled as a bolt of energy deflected off her armor, “I tire of their insistence.”
Taking her hand from her sister Nelchitl removed her helmet dropping it where she stood. The discordant melody of the furious combat around her and the flavors of death and ozone filled her senses. Raising her chainsword high she bellowed as her daughters from the 31st Company arrived to join their Primarch and sisters from the XXth.
“For the Emperor!” she raged, the sounds of her daughter's responses all but drowned out by her singular focus to end this futile last stand once and for all. She crossed the great hall in moments, her chainsword sweeping through traitors in one hand, and buckling turncoats in hammer fisted blows with the other. Blood-lust overcoming her every desire, the Emerald Priestess ripped into the enemy ceaselessly, every blow killing and maiming. She worked through the mortals in front of her with brutal efficiency, the lithe flowing form of battle of her Sister and the Tears nowhere to be seen in the ranks of the Serpents and their Primarch as they crashed into the defenders. So savage was the assault of the Serpent’s to end the battle, that the amount of matter building in Nelchitl’s chainsword became so complete that the Primarch of the XVIIth began using it as a crude club against the men around her.
Breaking through a crude barrier, Nelchitl left the useless weapon impaled through a fool behind her and began killing with fists alone. Laughing and howling in equal parts as she crushed heads in her hands and bludgeoned traitors to death with the bodies of their comrades. Her lauded Serpents of the Assault squads joining in the horrendous melee around her with cries of reverence for the Emerald Priestess and the Emperor alike.
While Nelchitl and her daughters fought like the roaring wind of the hurricane, pulling the enemy apart, often literally, Sekhmetara advanced as its eye, a centre of calm in the torrent of violence raging around her. Were she not a being of genetic perfection standing in shining armour of her home planet’s distinctive weave and scheme, she might almost go unnoticed. The enemy were, by nature of the Serpents hacking them to pieces, forced to essentially ignore her as she took in the scene, noted the flow of combat and the enemy. She did not care for their individual deaths, although her super-attuned senses noted every Serpent who fell. Another name to a growing list of crimes committed by the traitors in the name of a false freedom. It was not her blade which lashed out for vengeance now, but the weapon of her other hand. With almost dismissive gestures, the battle-gauntlet erupted with precise volkite-fire, the invisible death cooking rebels within their armour, turning them to slurry within the protective shielding which could blunt the chew of bolter fire. She seemed passive, but she was anything but, each decision a scything blow to the enemy’s ability to reform and repel the invaders from their final sanctum in the hive.
When the fighting pushed up into the final chamber, the den of betrayal which had spun this city into its throes of defiance, she changed in a blur. Sekhmetara leapt, springing like the tyrantigers of her homeworld through the air, the six arms of her grav-chutes extending outwards. The blade-like appearance of each arm proving that appearances are not always deceiving, slicing through those who tried to move to flank her even as she was carried through the air, the mono-blading along each wing slicing as lethally as her spear. She landed among their council of dignitaries, those panicked faces who had brought ruin to their people. She had decided which one she would spare before she had leapt, the rest were dead with the next blink of the eye, her glaive moving faster than the human eye or mind could follow.
“You.” She spoke with dripping contempt as she seized the flabby form of the politician by the neck, hefting the man’s considerable bulk from the ground into the air before her. Despite appearances, he did not mentally collapse as many did. Of course he whimpered and gasped, but that was the biological reaction of any human caught in the vice of a superior predator. He did not, however, fight to beg her for anything through his collapsing larynx. Her very low impression of the man increased just a little. At least they had something approaching fire.
She reversed her grip, allowing the man a gasp of air, before clutching his neck from the back as she held him aloft, turning him around the chamber so he could witness the slaughter of his people, pulling her lips up beside his ear as they watched together. “Do you see what you have done? What your cry for false-freedom has earned you? You had your place in this new galaxy of reason and progress, my legion would have brought you all into a glorious future.” Her voice was barely a whisper, before one hand took the back of his head, forcing the man to look upon the advancing form of Nelchitl, ripping through armoured rebels with her fists alone. “Now this is the future of your sorry little planet.” She dropped the man, letting him slump with a moan of pain and fear forwards. Slowly, her foot pressed to the back of his head, pushing him forwards into a pool of spent viscera collating on the floor from his many slain colleagues. It was no effort for the primach to hold him there as he drowned, each second of struggle a soothing balm to her rage at the situation. The man died well before Nelchitl reached her, and the serene calm had returned to Sekhmetara’s features.
Nation Name: The Greater Chirian People's Republic (GCR)
Type of Government: Worker's Republic
Head(s) of Government: Nikolas Kussainov: First Secretary of the Chirian Central Committee Nyshan Ibrayev: Security Secretary of the Chirian Central Committee Akmaral Zhaksylyk: Technical Secretary of the Chirian Central Committee Sadir Imanbaeva: Economic Secretary of the Chirian Central Committee Erlan Rybalko: Defense Secretary of the Chirian Central Committee
Land Area: 15 Land Fertility: 20 Natural Resources: 17 Social Development: 14 Technological Development: 12 Industrial Development: 8 Total Economic Strength: 5 Land Power: 15 Naval Power: 2 Air Power: 7
The GCR functions as many would consider a Socialist State to function in the way of economy and industry. The Party maintains direct control over the larger businesses and industries of the nation, setting quotas, enforcing prices of goods, and determining production lines and output numbers. Despite these, the GCR has allowed small business and industrial ventures to remain privately owned in an effort to stave off economic collapse, imposed early on in their consolidation of power among the old nations of the region of Chiria.
The GCR is still in the early stages of industrializing their nation as a whole, and as such production capabilities for more advanced materials and goods are low or nonexistent throughout the nation. Due to this, their military power is far smaller than many of its neighbors, relying namely upon imports of more complicated machinery and items to create their weapons of war at blisteringly slow paces.
Imports: -Machine Parts -Manufactured Goods -Heavy Machinery -Electronic Components -Sand
Swrromagiya Crystal Refinement: Swrromagiya (Surrogate Magic) Crystals are crystals that have been artificially imbued with magic. The exact process is a State secret and closely guarded by the Security Services. The crystals can be used in most every way that their natural counterparts can be used, and are often used to supplement natural crystals being used to power complex machinery that larger diesel or coal engines would make unwieldy or unviable. Swrromagiya are in low supply and high demand within the GCR, the process it takes to create and refine them being exhausting on resources and eating up time not helping in increasing the supply in the slightest.
Jeke Qalqan: Jeke Qalqan - In development. More information to be disseminated as the Ministry of Information deems fit.
Primary Species: Humans
Population: ~260 million Registered Citizens
The culture within the GCR is an amalgamation of the different nations that were absorbed during the early years of the Parties rise to power, and because of such, it can be simple to go from one area of the nation to another and find yourself surrounded by completely different styles of buildings and regional languages. However, the GCR has been pushing hard over the past twenty-four years to create a new national culture, one inspired by the never-ending People's Revolution and emphasizing those facets of life that directly reflect in the Revolution itself.
Below are some of the key cultural values and specifics of the GCR Chirians: The people of what was once known as "Lesser Chiria", a relatively small autocratic state located in the Chirian region of the Western continent. Having been the founders of the Greater Chirian People's Republic and the spreaders of the People's Revolution when the opportunity presented itself, they are very much devoted to The Party and its cause. The core populace of the nation, they hold many high positions within The Party and all facets of the state.
Odishans: Odisha was the first nation to fall to the "People's Revolution" as it spread out of Chiria and into its neighbors during the initial years following the Parties ascension. Odishans have assimilated well into the new national culture that The Party has been pushing, forming a new and welcomed addition to the loyal populace of Chirians within the GCR. Many Odishans hold middling positions in the Party and businesses of the GCR.
Dombarians: The nation of Dombaru peacefully submitted to the People's Revolution after the tragic death of its entire royal family at the hands of a "mob of nobles" that were, according to public reports made available by the National Information and Data Collection Bureau, "attempting to stop the Royal family from leading their nation down the correct path of the Revolution." As the nation fell into chaos shortly after, the arrival of the Blues was a welcome sight and the people rejoiced, quickly agreeing to join the fold of the GCR. Dombarians are among the greatest of metallurgists and engineers within the GCR, with a grand history of fine armors and weapons spanning centuries before they were truly a free nation. Dombarians are watched closely by the Security Division as it is a well-known rumor that many do not believe the story given by The Party about the death of their beloved royal family.
Ranians: The most recent nation to join the GCR is that of the Federated State of Rania. A forward-thinking and progressive state known for artisans and thinkers. Added to the GCR only a year and a half ago, there are still those within its now-defunct borders that believe they are still fighting a war against the GCR. Ranians are distrusted by even the Dombarians, and many are suspected of aiding rebel groups or even being members of them. Currently, the most persecuted of the different ethnic groups of the GCR due to their regions continued rebellion against the GCR.
"Party. Member. Self." Adhering to a strict belief that everything a citizen does is for the betterment of the Party and the members around them before they are to do anything to benefit themselves. The idea behind such a notion is that in benefiting the nation and your countrymen, you are indirectly benefiting yourself as the Party works in your best interests. That is at least, the theory.
"Enemy Within" Citizens of the GCR live in a state that breeds some of the worst traits in a person. Chief among these is the constant paranoia and distrust that members of the nation live with. It is caused by the Party-led idea that any and all subversive activity is to be reported to the Security Service with all haste, any failure to do so will result in not only the subversive individual coming to justice but the one that failed to report as well. Students report professors, children report parents, brothers report sisters. No one is safe in the GCR, not even close family can truly trust one another with any degree of certainty.
Party Members: Only humans maintain membership within the Party in the GCR and are considered as “Registered Citizens”. Other races, though not enslaved or in any form of serfdom, do not hold the level of a “Party Member” and are thus not entitled to all of the benefits that come with being such. Instead, they are what could be considered second class citizens. Protected in some forms under the law but in others completely let down by the Party. How much of a difference this actually makes between your average Party Member and a non-human is very much up for debate, though in reality there is little difference in the eyes of the Party between a member and a non-human citizen as long as quotas are met.
The GCR outlawed all forms of religion following the Party's rise to power and subsequent liberation of the faltering and collapsed nations around them. This move has helped them to maintain control over the populace, leaving the masses little to think about beyond their indoctrinated lifestyles and constant pro-Party Propaganda.
This is not to say that religion isn’t still practiced, as it very much is, just hidden away and in secret from the Party.
Climate and Geography: Sub-tropic/Oceanic. Consisting of vast swathes of forests, mountains, and gently rolling hills punctuated by protruding pillar-like spikes where erosion has slowly eaten away at mountains of old. The GCR enjoys an abundance almost to an excess of rolling foothills of rice patties and fields of grain to feed it's people. The average temperature is on the higher end of a moderate climate during the day in the Summer months and only slightly lower in the winter months.
The military arm of the GCR consists of two of the three branches that can be expected of a nation and a third less common branch. The first of the branches being the GCR Ground Army followed by the GCR Aerial Forces. The uncommon branch of the GCRs Military arm is that of the Security Forces, a Paramilitary Organization that answers directly to the Party and acts as a sort of Secret Police to carry out the Parties commands. The GCR, being a landlocked nation, only sports a spattering of river patrol craft stationed in larger brown water ports that are nominally controlled by the Army Garrisons in those locations.
Currently one of the hardest hit aspects of the GCR in relation to their attempt to industrialize. The Military forces have seen a noted down-tick in the Party's willingness to spend on even the most basic aspects of a soldier's lives like uniforms and even food in some cases. This has caused supply issues at all levels within the military and many units, squadrons, and boats are without the parts and supplies to operate effectively or even at all in some cases.
The Ground Army of the GCR consists of mainly light infantry that is considered to be regularly trained and poorly equipped. With mostly bolt action rifles and in many cases repeating rifles, the GCR is certainly lagging behind compared to many of its neighbors in equipping its army. Popularly dubbed as "The Blues" or "The Blue Army" by the populace due to their standard color scheme.
A recent shift in GCR stratagem has seen the introduction of artillery in mass to military formations. No doubt an idea stolen from their Northern neighbors. Wired landlines are available at the Battalion level but no lower, this is mostly due to the fact that the GCR is unable to create phones at a fast enough rate to supply anything lower than a Battalion Commander and an ingrained fear that if communication is disseminated enough to the lower ranks there could be unforeseen consequences that such ease of communication allows.
Standard Infantry Standard Infantry sport an average amount of training and discipline, but are bogged down by their poor weapons and meager equipment.
Support Infantry Other than Commissars, the presence of Support Infantry is likely to be one of the only other factors that keep a standard infantryman from breaking and running in the face of a superior enemy. Sporting far better ballistic protection than the average infantryman, the Support Infantry are the heavy weapons experts of an infantry unit. Sporting crew-swerved weapons and anti-material rifles, they lay down the heavy and incessant fire that their bolt action counterparts simply can not provide. Many Support Infantry within the GCR find themselves ill-equipped or completely lacking much of the heavier ordnance they are supposed to carry.
Commissars and Security Forces Commissars
Commissars: The disciplinary backbone of the Ground Army, Commissars function as competent and well-trained battlefield leaders and swift judges during battle and downtime. Able to rouse their troops to action with speeches for the Party or with the ever-present threat of violence. A Commissar is an important part of any infantry action and a Commanders go-to tool when the troops disagree with orders. Very regularly better equipped than standard infantry with many imported items from Sphere allies. The standard load consists of higher-grade armor, submachine guns, and large-caliber handguns. Security Forces Commissars: Sporting the same uniform as a standard Commissar and holding the same ranks, the only difference between the two is that Security Forces Commissars do not fall under the Ground Army. As members of the Security Forces of the GCR they act as the secret police of the state. In accordance with the rule of law, they carry out judgment on dissidents and subversive groups, interrogate opposition, and enforce Party unity with their mere presence.
Security Forces Troops Among the elite of the paramilitary forces that the Party deploys. Security Division troops are some of the best-equipped troops in the GCR. With armor created with close quarters in mind, and standard equipment consisting of submachine guns and a platoon-level man-portable backpack radio. the Security Forces Troops are fielded at the discretion of their SF Commissars to quell subversives and end unlawful gatherings with a violence of action not seen amongst other members of the GCRs forces.
Şabwılşılar The elite of the Ground Army, Şabwılşılar (Storm Troopers, often referred to as "Heavy Shock Infantry" or "Heavy Shock Troops"), operate as the spearhead to the most dangerous of undertakings, and the units that react to situations requiring speed and brute force all at once. Kitted in an armored carapace that protects the user from some forms of small arms fire where it is present and carrying a standard load of several grenades and a submachine gun for an increased rate of fire.
Flame Troops Flame Troops are an offshoot from the municipal work crews that use flame throwers to maintain areas of cities from being overgrown by ever-encroaching fauna. Somewhere along the way, someone figured that strapping a larger tank to a man's back and armoring him would be a good way to toast dissidents and enemies alike. Their availability is rather limited within the Ground Army, and are normally held in reserve as to not waste their potential in initial assault actions or requisitioned by the Security Forces.
The Air Force of the Chirian People's Republic is envisioned by the Party to be the power projection arm of the state. Currently, the Air Force is nothing more than a mockery of the Party's grand ambitions, consisting of only a handful of rudimentary imported biplanes and barely working domestic prototypes.
Magic has been outlawed for personal use in the GCR. Any use of magic for the State is monitored thoroughly at all points of its use.
State Sanctioned Crystal Use: The State takes complete control of all magical crystals upon their discovery and holds sole control of the use of all crystals within its borders.
The GCR in reality imprisons, experiments, and harvests the life force of "dissidents" to create their Swrromagiya Crystals among other uses. Possibly one of the most closely guarded secrets of the state, as any word of such getting out would surely see the world turn against them.
Outrage did not describe the Primarch of the XVII Legion’s mood effectively. Nelchitl was incensed. At the Arelian defenders for refusing to die. At the Auxiliaries for not pushing fast enough. At her own gene-daughters for failing to take the capital in the prescribed time frame. The Emerald Priestess was furious.
Her anger, as intoxicating as she had ever felt it, pushed her further into the city with every pump of her hearts. She felled entire units of Arelians alone as she moved ahead of her daughters in a fit of rage. Voxcalls from her Company Commanders to slow down and allow them to reform with her went unanswered as her chainsword whirred in one hand and her plasma pistol spat bolts of death from the other. There was little hope for the Arelian’s that stood between the Primarch and the city center and yet they still tried to stop her relentless advance.
Turning a corner onto a long promenade, Nelchitl was met with the fire of several dozen of the multicolored energy weapons of the Arelian’s. Like concentrated bolts of lightning the shots cracked and popped as they made contact with the ground and the Primarchs armor, leaving shallow gouges and steaming streaks where they hit.
Nelchitl leveled her plasma pistol and let fly a trio of bolts that laid waste to several positions of concentrated defenders, but the fire barely let up. Letting loose another pair of well placed shots Nelchitl advanced forward and shrugged off the energy weapons impacts in a fantastic fluorescent show of sparks and arcing electricity.
Now only a few hundred meters from the Xenos positions Nelchitl found a new sense of purpose as several Xenos defenders unmasked heavy weapons from their hides among the rubble of the city. These weapons had been prevalent at the curtain wall, and though formidable they had proved to be little threat to the well armored Land Raiders of the XVII. But against a lone Primarch these weapons were more than enough and even Nelchitl knew she had been caught out in her lust to end the fighting. Her blind desperation to join her Father in the Ullanor System was to be her end.
Charging another bolt from her plasma pistol Nelchitl was weighing whether or not to seek cover from the emplaced guns ahead when a cacophony of bolter fire laid waste to the Arelian guns and made her decision for her.
One of her gene-daughters came on-line with her, firing as she spoke, “My Lady, the Second Company sends it’s apologies for our tardiness.”
Knowing the voice of the Captain of the Second Company as though it were her own Nelchitl answered her daughter as she too let loose with a bolt of plasma, “Captain Mayalen, push the Second forward, I expect no more delays in this extermination.”
Her voice was cold steel as she ordered her gene daughters forward to end this battle once and for all.Through a wide square Nelchitl walked past the ruined bodies of Arelian defenders and Serpents alike. There had been a great battle, here at the gate to the Arelian capitol building, and the Second had done well to overcome the Xenos filth that held the entrance but it had not been without cost.
The still smoldering bodies of dozens of her daughters lay haphazard about the square, their armor penetrated and the Legionairres within laid low by the exotic energy weapons. Though Nelchitl felt sorrow at the sight of so many of her daughters lost, she took solace in the fact that their sacrifices were not in vain as she passed a trio of Apothecaries extracting the geneseed from their sisters.
As the Primarch of the XVII entered the capitol building her sense were immediately met with the smells of burnt ozone, cordite and death.
A squad of Serpents from the Second waited for her just within the threshold of the gate and quietly began off in the direction of the final hold out of Arelian’s in the building. Their Primarch needed no prompt or intruction to know to follow.
As they made their way down the maze of passageways and rooms Nelchitl passed yet more of her slain daughters. At first they came only one or two at a time, but as they got closer to their destination the bodies became more frequent in number. The Second had delivered on their Primarch’s order, and they had paid dearly for their results.
Stopping before a single vaulted door Nelchitl turned to find Captain Mayalen once more among the group of Astartes waiting for her. Spotting the armor of the Captain of the Second, Nelchitl simply waited for her report.
“The Arelian’s are dug in deep on the other side, we’ve lost contact with the first two Squads that entered together and I did not believe it wise to commit more to this push without your approval.” the Captain of the Second was obviously upset, whether it was with her performance or the losses her Company was sustaining Nelchitl didn’t truly care. The Emerald Priestess cared only for results, and the bloodbath that undoubtedly awaited on the other side of the door.
“We blow the door and sweep through, standard wedge. I will lead.”
“Lord.”
Moments later the door exploded in a fury of fire and debris, the smoke parting ways as the Serpents and their Primarch entered the room in a perfect wedge, bolters barking as they did.
Around Nelchitl her daughters fell. Concentrated energy beams boring straight through their armor, multicolored arcs of electricity boiling their targets alive as they touched ceramite, and countless other grotesque forms of the end of an Astartes took place just behind the Primarch.
In only a few heart beats the fire had ceased, the Arelian’s at the far side of the hall lay broken and Nelchitl stood triumphant among a perfectly formed wedge of her lost daughters. Victory had been achieved.
Due to a player leaving, this post is no longer in continuity with the story. The Serpents and their Primarch are still prosecuting the Arel Extermination rather than being present during the battles for Ullanor.
Serpents of the Sun
The Empyrean had racked the Solstice’s End from the moment it had made the warp jump from the Vokarr system. For a full Terran month the mighty flagship of the Serpents of the Sun and it’s myriad 685th Expeditionary Fleet of cruisers, frigates, and support craft had braved the roiling warp to reach the Emperor with all possible haste. Astropaths has been unable to send or receive messages in the turmoil, and several ships had been forced to disengage into realspace, suffering malfunctions that would not allow them to continue the journey and one frigate was lost entirely when what was believed to be a Gellar field failure allowed the energies of the Immaterium to tear the ship asunder. But the fleet pushed on, Nelchitl made sure of it. They would not falter in their duty to assist their Emperor.
A dozen ships lost to the Empyrean was a number Nelchitl was willing to see multiplied were it to get her to the Ullanor System.
“Lord, we’re transitioning to realspace in thirty seconds.” came the clipped voice of Admiral Fabrizio, Mistress of the fleet. Nelchitl shook her head, clenching her muscles in sickly anticipation at the idea that they would be too late to provide any assistance to the campaign, that their travel through the warp would spit them out ten or twenty years past the victory that the Emperor was to win upon Ullanor.
Warning klaxons blared, a servitor spoke over the shipwide broadcast system in a monotonous and static strewn tone.
“All hands to combat stations,” the lights of the bridge dimmed to an amber glow, casting golden shadows across the deck, “translation imminent.”
At a place near the far flung reaches of the Ullanor system space tore apart in a maelstrom of warp energies and light in a hundred and more places, and from the maw of each of these tears in reality the mighty ships of Nelchitl’s flotilla made their yawning transitions into realspace.
The entire structure of Solstice’s End shuttered and moaned as it slipped back into reality, several crew ratings steadied themselves with hands outstretched while other more seasoned officers took the transition in stride as they carried out their duties about the bridge. Nelchitl stood in her power armor before the strategium and the holo-image that hung in the air above it. She took in the readings from the augors and the other sensors of the venerable warship with quick glances of scrolling text.
“Captain, hails from the 29th Macroclade!” the vox officer called out as he listened intently to his headset, “They request immediate ident and transfer of command runes!”
“Multiple target locks reported, energy spikes at the Macroclades fore, they’re charging lances and coming around Ma’am!” a junior officer reported from his station.
Nelchitl moved quickly to the vox station and reached past the vox officer as he shrunk further into his alcove at her form, she slipped a pendant from around her neck and keyed it into a slot on the vox station, “Respond, Vox Officer.” Nelchitl stated flatly as she pulled away from the station and moved back to the strategium.
The Vox officer responded quickly in serious terse tones and sat silent for a moment as he listened to the response from the Macroclade. “Ma’am the 29th is maneuvering back onto their original course. Note the Archmagos Dominus informs the Lord Primarch that the 29th is at the Lord's disposal if she so requires.”
“Noted.” replied Admiral Fabrizio from her command throne. She swept a pen across several data slates and stepped down to join her Primarch at the strategium, “Lord, several calls for assistance are being broadcast on the general vox and emergency frequencies. Several navy vessels are drifting and badly damaged in need of evacuation or emergency crews to help fight fires aboard,” the Admiral shifted a dataslate from the stack in her hands and placed it on the strategium before Nelchitl, “Imperial Army are reporting desperate fighting on all fronts, and most quizzically, the Dread Lords are voxing for immediate reinforcement lest they be lost completely.”
Nelchitl filed away the information and turned to smile at Fabrizio, “Admiral you already know which we respond to. Set course for the Dread Lords position, ready the companies for a combat drop. We move to save my Brother and his sons today.” the Primarch fingered a few keys and the holo-image shifted and spun to a close-in view of the area that the Dread Lords found themselves stuck in.
“They could have held the battlements of the ork city. Cut down the xenos to the last they would have.” came the dissenting voice of First Captain Xenetl as Nelchitl looked over the terrain around the Dread Lords position.
The First Captain stood to the side of the Primarch, resplendent in her terminator armor. Hues of blue and gold accentuating the intricate designs overlaid in the ceramite plate and pulling the still feminine features of her face to the fore of her person.
“Perhaps First Captain, but you know as well as I do, my Brother does not shy from a chance to meet the foe on even footing.” Nelchitl grinned as she turned to address the First Captain, “Ready the First, Captain. And bring the rest of the Legion to combat alert, tell them their Brothers require saving.” she laughed, a light and delicate thing befitting only the face of one as bloodthirsty as Nelchitl. Warning runes flashed and klaxon blared aboard the bridge of the Solstice’s End, Nelchitl grumbled unhappily as she read the data streaming over her data slate. From behind her Admiral Di Fabrizio made a noise of annoyance and stepped down from her command throne. As the Admiral moved to Nelchitl’s side, ships ratings and officers passed tense messages and ran wafers and streamers of data from one station to another.
“The Ork fleet dropped out of warp well within the stars gravity well on the near side of Ullanors closest moon, it shouldn’t be possible. Especially not with the hunks of scrap they dare to call ships.” the Admiral stated, her frustration obvious as it practically dripped from her words, “None of the other Legions fleets are in place to engage but they’re almost all moving to close that distance.”
Nelchitl shifted where she stood and and surveyed the hololith, “Can we deploy before the Xenos are in range Admiral?”
“Not likely, they transitioned at considerable speed, they will close the distance in fifteen minutes if we’re lucky, less more than likely.”
Nelchitl weighed her options as she watched the Admiral reading over new data, “Move to engage Admiral, we will drop as you prosecute the Xenos filth from the battle space.” she gave the Admiral a nod, “And raise the 29th Macroclade, request their intervention immediately.” With the directions of her Primarch complete the Admiral began to move back to her command throne, barking orders that were repeated and relayed down the bridge crew to the relevant officers.
On the holo-lith, the ships of the 685th Expeditionary Fleet came about in lines and pressed themselves into an orderly battle fortmation. Smaller specks began to disgorge themselves from the larger holo-images of light cruisers and larger tonnage ships as the they launched their fighter and bomber compliments into the cold void. The swarms of attack craft was quickly cleaned up into single icons to represent formations and clear space on the already cluttered holo-display.
Nelchitl nodded in approval as the gunnery officer began to rattle off targets and solutions in tandem with the vox officer relating other ships at the ready to engage.
“Admiral.”
“Lord?” the woman asked expectantly.
“The fleet is yours.” Nelchitl stated flatly with a grin.
“When has it ever not been, Lord?” the Admiral answered back with a similar grin on her face.
With the ever expected reply of her Admiral Nelchitl turned and left the bridge headed for the embarkation decks and her daughters so eagerly awaiting their moment on the planet below. In the void above Ullanor Prime battle raged in absolute silence. Vessels kilometers long lashed out in displays of continent destroying firepower, attack craft jockeyed for position and died in nearly invisible balls of fire and plasma as lascannons and hard rounds met their mark.
The Ork fleet was larger than the opposing Serpents, but what the Imperials lacked in available numbers they made up for in tenacity and courage.
In the void above the two engaged fleets, the entirety of the Serpents picket fleet fell with systems cold until they had reached a nearly perpendicular position above the Orks fleet. In a flurry of drive plumes the Frigates and smaller craft roared to life in a display of considerably smaller but no less awesome firepower than their larger counterparts. The attention of the Orks now split, their once unified formation began to quickly crumble as individual Ork ships began to break for one fleet or the other, opening wide avenues for Imperial attack craft and new firing solutions for more important targets among the Ork fleet.
Nelchitl smiled as the Ork fleets cohesion fell apart on her helmets display. She tapped a single rune at her side and gravity quickly fell away as the drop pod launched from its cradle. Behind it a swarm followed in silence through the void. Several found their journey to the surface cut short in blooms of flame as Ork attack craft shot by or stray munitions found completely unintended targets. Several more found themselves falling far of course as dead and dying Imperial craft careened into their flight paths, spewing atmosphere, bodies, and radioactive clouds as they spun through the void.
But still, enough drop pods remained on target, and as soon as the void battle was won, more Serpents would follow in assault craft to reinforce those already on the surface.
Nelchitl keyed a vox-link to her brother on the surface just as the atmosphere outside of her drop-pod began to burn, “Asura, the Serpents have answered your call. Hold Brother.”
Dim red running lights cast the inside of the Land Raider in eerie shadows that danced and jumped with every movement of the formidable war machine. At the head of the troop compartment, the master-vox was alive with chatter as the battle for the capital city of Vokun raged on. Troop movements, unit conditions, positions, and several desperate calls for reinforcements and support from Imperial Army Regiments in the field rolled in over the vox channels. Responses from headquarters formations, artillery batteries, and aerial support answered in kind to those units in the most dire need of assistance, while even further support units called for position updates and route clarifications to reach evermore units in need of munitions and medical evacuations.
The muffled voice of the driver sounded over the internal vox channel and the Land Raider lurched heavily as it came to an abrupt stop, causing its sole occupant to reach for a handhold to keep steady as the sizable vehicle came to rest. A steady tone sounded briefly as the troop door unlocked and fell outwards, the whine of hydraulics easing the adamantium door to the ground with considerable effort filling the Primarch of the XVII legions ears as she ducked through troop hatch and stepped down to the mud of Vokun.
As quickly as Nelchitl had disembarked a pair of First Company Veterans took up her flanks as she strode through the tumult of the soldiers, adepts and medicae as they crisscrossed their way between tents, directed vehicles, and rushed supplies to resuscitation stations. The Primarch stopped to let a vehicle laden with wounded Imperial soldiers rush past before taking up her stride once more toward the command bunker at the center of the camp.
The pair of guards out front of the command bunker came to attention as they recognized the Primarch approaching, one of them breaking their stance to hurriedly open the blast doors of the prefabricated bunker to allow the commander of the entire Vokun Subjugation to enter the strategic center of her armies.
Entering the well lit interior of the bunker, the space was alive with the commands of officers, the information reports of adepts at vox stations and cogitator banks and the ever incessant buzz of the equipment they toiled over. There was a brief moment in which the eyes of a tired young officer met those of the Primarch as she walked to the strategium at the center of the bunker. It was at that moment that Nelchitl could practically feel the awe and admiration in the young officers as he realized the gift he had come to experience in the eyes of the demigod before him. As quickly as the officers eyes had met Nelchitl’s they were redirected with renewed vigor to the tasks at hand, the weary and exhausted face of the man replaced with determination and purpose in his every responsibility.
A group of Generals staff stood huddled around the holo-display at the center of a raised strategium in the command bunker, their faces drawn in distress and their words hushed and distressed as they attempted to sort the grim information streaming in from the front lines.
Without warning, the Primarch of the XVII Legion resplendent in her red and gold artificer armor despite the gore that adorned it, dropped her massive chainsword onto the strategium’s central holo-display with a resounding crash. Bits of organic matter and xenos blood splaying out around the weapon as it landed. Instantly the command staff of the bunker was focused upon her, all talk ceased to stare upon the Primarch with a mix of adoration and apprehension at whatever was to come next.
“This is unacceptable.” Nelchitl spoke to the room at large, anguish evident in her voice as the room hung on her every word, “Intelligence has failed us. The Arelian energy weapons are far stronger than had been assessed. But that does not make up for this stalemate that has developed. The Emperor has called upon the XVII and all her might to reinforce his undertaking in the Ullanor System, and yet we are unable to take this repugnant planet from the grip of the Xenos.”
Vox calls continued to roll in as the lower-ranked officers and vox-technicians, cowed as they were by their Primarchs initial outburst continued to perform their duties.
With the sweep of an arm at the arrayed Generals and their staff before her, wrath grew in the Primarch's eyes, “We cannot fail here. The Emperor awaits our arrival, without us victory may well be lost in Ullanor.” her hands danced across the holo-display controls before her, maps of the frontlines appearing to float in the air above the table and focusing in on a specific section, “I am mobilizing the Sixth, Eighth, and Ninth Companies from orbit to reinforce the Imperial regiments here.” a blinking symbol appeared on the holo-display above a conglomerate of regiments focused along the western edge of the Xenos capital city, “They will lead the charge to the curtain wall of the Arel capital with your regiments in close support. All other regiments are to hold the Arelian forces in combat at all costs that our spearhead can advance unhindered.”
Taking the hilt of her chainsword back in her hand Nelchitl hefted it above her head, “My Serpents will take the head of these Xenos, and Emperor willing, your regiments will stand at their side in this achievement that we may arrive to the Emperor with the winds of victory at our backs!”
Nelchitl could practically feel the atmosphere of the command bunker as it rose considerably from the shame of beaten men to that of warriors proud in their profession and worthy of their appointments to stand in the strategium of the XVII Legion, to stand at her side. “The intricacies are yours to decide upon, my Astartes await your guidance.” she lowered the chainsword and turned to exit the command bunker. Stepping down off the raised strategium the First Company Veterans fell back in at her side and flanked her return to the waiting Land Raider.
A turquoise Land Raider surged forward from behind an earthen mound and into a deluge of fluorescent energy weapons fire from the curtain wall. It was followed in close pursuit by three dozen more and the lumbering forms of Dreadnoughts bringing up the rear. The advancing spearhead of Land Raiders raked the curtain wall in lascannon and heavy bolter rounds. From above the shells of the Imperial Armies artillery rained on the battlements in a hellish barrage of high explosive and incendiary shells that cracked the very curtain wall itself. The Arel defenders unlucky enough to be caught on the receiving end of the opening barrage disappeared in clouds of superheated vapor as lascannon bolts met flesh, were torn apart as heavy bolters found their mark, or were simply vaporized in their dozens as high explosives fell amongst them. The formations of Land Raiders pushed ever forward through the still formidable amount of xenos weapons fire coming from the curtain wall. Forward toward the imposing outline of the closed gate that was to be their entrance, the Land Raiders’ weapons responding to the Arelian defenders' tenacious defense of their capital in kind.
“Major Anlin of the Iron Duke reports capacitors charged and canticles complete.” came a calm voice from the commander of the lead Land Raider over the vox net.
“Iron Duke you may fire.” Nelchitl voxed as she watched the battle taking place outside of her Land Raider on a screen mounted in front of her position in the passenger compartment. The night was alight with the Arelian’s multicolored energy weapons fire, and the answering Imperial lascannons and tracer rounds.
There was no response from the commander of the Iron Duke for no words were needed to respond to the order they had been given. From nearly two kilometers distant the Shadowsword’s barrel arced with discharging energy and the venerable super heavy tank’s Machine Spirit itself whined in anticipation as it unleashed the power of its main gun on the unsuspecting xenos defenders of the city. The Iron Dukes response was nothing short of annihilation.
The astounding light show of the assault was overtaken and drowned out by a concentrated beam of energy so powerful that the exterior cameras of the Land Raider and Astartes optics alike were forced to automatically shutter themselves lest they be rendered useless. The air above the advancing Serpents’ spearhead abruptly flared in a blinding beam of orange and yellow as the Shadowsword Iron Duke unleashed its volcano cannon upon the curtain wall’s gate.
The sky erupted in fire as the super dense laser beam made contact with the xenos structure. It stripped away layers of armor several meters thick in just milliseconds and ignited the air around it in a cataclysm few among the mortal Imperial attackers had witnessed in their lives. Pieces of debris larger than a Wolfram tank rained down in all directions crushing xenos structures inside the city and an unlucky Land Raider as they fell amongst the battlefield. Molten metal and stone slag ran in rivers from the remains of the curtain wall closest to where the gate had once stood, and a thick and toxic cloud of noxious vaporized materials hung in the air ahead of the Land Raiders.
The abrupt removal of the gate and a considerable portion of the curtain wall along with the defenders therein seemed to give the survivors pause as the Land Raiders streamed through the breach. Fire upon the armored transports was intermittent, undisciplined, and wild as the defenders seemed to be reeling and attempting to regroup in the wake of the cannon’s strike.
Nelchitl shrugged the harness from her shoulders as the Land Raider spearhead fanned out in the square that lay beyond the breach. Once more a steady tone sounded briefly to herald the opening of the troop hatch, but this time instead of a slow and steady release the door was dropped by gravity to slam to the ground as quickly as possible.
Nelchitl’s armored form hit the still steaming stone of the square already firing her plasma pistol at the defenders positions ahead of her. Beams from the Arelian weapons cracked into the ground around her and deflected off the armored transport beside her as she began to move forward. At her sides the Sisters of the Eighth Company began letting loose with their bolters and volkite rifles on the xenos scum that dared to resist their inevitable end. Quickly the Sisters of the Ninth Company joined the advance as energy weapons burnt away the outer layers of ceramite and left deep gouges in the adamantium of their power armor beneath. The Land Raiders kept up their fires, supporting the advance of their Primarch and their Sisters as they shrugged off hit after hit of Arelian energy weapons.
Dropping into a trench on the far side of the square Nelchitl mag-locked her plasma pistol to her armor and took up her chainsword in both hands. With speed and reflexes beyond that of even her beloved daughters she began to hack her way mercilessly through the Arelian soldiers that occupied the trench. As her daughters dropped in at her side they made quick work of the remaining xenos and claimed the trench as their own in only a handful of heart beats.
“Excertus Imperialis at the breach.” came the vox distorted voice of Captain Felcia of the Sixth Company.
Turning her attention to the Imperial soldiers and the Sisters of the Sixth Company as they flowed through the breach with regimental banners held proud, Nelchitl felt something akin to purpose as she watched the mortal soldiers before her run head first into a living nightmare. To give humanity a galaxy that they could call their own, free of Xenos and the need for such acts of heroism was the ultimate vision of her Father, of her God. Opening a vox channel to the Company Commanders and Officers Nelchitl quickly relayed orders to cover the advance of the Imperial regiments. She rose from the trench and once more leveled her pistol on the xenos ahead.
Several Dreadnoughts pressed past the trench line of Astartes and into the city streets beyond with weapons bristling and warhorns blaring.
“Forward!” Nelchitl bellowed easily over the deluge of fires and through the open vox channel of her suit, “For the Fifth Sun!”
The Battle Sisters of the Sixth, Eighth and Night Companies answered her warcry in unison as they rose from the trench.
“For the Emperor!” her daughters responded like thunder.
A dense jungle planet located in the Segmentum Pacificus. Originally colonized in the later stages of the Age of Technology, Ixhun was to be used as a major exporter of wood and exotic animals among other jungle related goods.
As the planet received a handful of STCs and more colonists began to bolster its population in preparation for the exploitation of its resources, great warp storms cut the entire system from the rest of mankind even before news of the Men of Irons revolt was able to reach them. Ixhun, like many other planets, was plunged into a state of disarray. For millennia Ixhun remained cut off from the greater whole of mankind. The population of Ixhun finding itself split almost down the middle as the Warp Storms influence began to corrupt the jungle, animals, and even the populace themselves. At first the change was subtle on Ixhun, animals migrating enmasse for unexplained reasons, great blights upon the jungle, and eventually, the loss of contact with the city-states of the Eastern hemisphere.
When the war began it was without warning. In the dead of night the combined forces of the now corrupted Eastern city-states had fell upon the pure states of the West. The fighting was brief, and several smaller cities fell to the sudden onslaught, but as quickly as the attacks had begun they had ended just before sunrise. This pattern continued as night after night the Eastern states attacked only to withdraw before dawn in the event of unsuccessful sieges.
In desperate wars for survival, the loyalist city-states in the Western hemisphere of Ixhun warred with the savage and unrelenting corrupted city-states of the East. Over time the warring took its toll on what little infrastructure and industry existed on Ixhun, causing the planet to slowly revert back to a nearly feral state of technology and knowledge. Weapons slowly moved back to melee focuses as the STCs were one by one lost or simply unable to be maintained by the loyalists.
As the wars raged, the loyalist city-states found themselves pushed ever further back by the (unbeknownst to them) corrupted city-states of the East. Falling back into great walled cities of stone the Western city-states would continue their nightly fight against the East from behind their walls for the next several centuries. This everlasting conflict saw the populace of the West recognizing the Easts apparent disdain of the sun, and in time the West built great flat topped pyramids to perform rituals closer to the Sun, adopted symbology and a mythos that revered the Sun as their ardent protector, a God that kept the night at bay.
The fighting as well gave rise to a great warrior culture, placing emphasis on ones combat ability above most other forms of intellectual pursuits and seeing the ascendancy of great Priestly Warrior Kings within the city-states themselves. Seen as the chosen of the Sun and the protectors of its light, the Kings were worshiped on the level of a deity, and ritual sacrifices of captured enemies were offered to them just before nightfall in order ensure their protection from the encroaching dark lest they fail in their duty to their cities.
Following the discovery of Ixhun by the Imperium, the planet was allowed to remain in its feral state of existence, it's warriors providing ideal stock for the XVII Legion now united with their Primarch. Along with being allowed to remain feral, the war has not ended on Ixhun. The Imperium, and specifically a small detachment of Serpents of the Sun serving in recruiting duties take up periodic culling operations against the Eastern nations to ensure that the West, and their stock of viable recruits, is not over run and destroyed. This has perpetuated the war on Ixhun which has continued to remain at status quo as it has for centuries.
Appearance:
Coming in at 9' 2", Nelchitl is on the smaller side of her brother Primarchs in size, but is relatively even with her sister Primarchs. With dark brown eyes known to deeply entrance or unsettle most mortals Nelchitl looks upon and black hair to match, she is a strikingly beautiful Primarch stirring great emotions in all mortals who gaze upon her. Though her beauty flickers and falters when compared to her sister Primarch Danae, her beauty is yet undeniable. Possessing a far more lithe figure than the majority of her brothers, Nelchitl is not lacking in strength despite this apparent size difference.
When not in her power armor, Nelchitl opts to wear rather standard Astartes robes and a body glove beneath it.
War Gear: -A set of custom armor directly drawn from the lessons learned in creating armor for the Sisters of Silence. It provides far better protection and ease of movement than her Legionnaires standard Mk II and Mk IV armor sets.
-A massive, single handed, double edged chainsword. Likened to the simple but brutal teethed weapons of Ixhun before the arrival of the Emperor.
-A custom made, master crafted plasma pistol. Larger than the average plasma pistol, this variant possesses the ability to fire further than standard plasma pistols and can fire up to 18 plasma bolts reliably before a risk of overheating.
Personality: While Nelchitl's brothers and sisters are patient strategists and calculating logisticians, naval genius's and thousand year empire builders, Nelchitl is none of these things. The tedium of war councils do not suit her, the endless numbers and data sets of the logistics of war bore her, the complex navigational and firing data of naval engagements mean little to her mind, and the finesse of diplomacy required in empire building fails her. Impatient and ever wanting for the next burst of excitement in her life, Nelchitl is very much the antithesis of the vast majority of the children of the Emperor.
Possessing a lust for excitement beyond simply thrill seeking, Nelchitl often places herself at the forefront of her Assault Squads actions much to the horror of her veteran Captains and officers. With a tenacity practically unrivaled among her siblings, Nelchitl is relentless in her pursuit of that which she craves. Be it the next hill in thick combat, a planet teeming with xenos filth, or man and material to sate her Legions unending thirst for resources. She pushes forward by what means she has along the path most open to her victory until the victory is hers to relish in.
Nelchitl is by no means a blind war crazed Primarch. She understands that not all battles can be won and is more than willing to withdraw a failed bid for the chance at victory another day. Though she possesses a mind more suited to battle than the planning surrounding every engagement, she is more than aware of that fact and leaves the majority of planning to her trusted war council.
Skills:
The Suns Fortune - At times it has appeared to those that lay witness to it as if Nelchitl possesses an uncanny amount of luck at times when even her fellow Astartes have pulled a bad lot in life. Though not documented, it is claimed among the Legion that Nelchitl has walked away from shot down Thunderhawks while her entire retinue has not, that she has emerged barely burnt after artillery barrages that leveled entire sections of Imperial Soldiers and Astartes alike. Though her Legion sees this as all the more reason to follow her, the Imperial Soldiers among them see it as though the game has been rigged against them from the moment she arrived.
The Serpents Tenacity - What Nelchitl lacks in strategic vision or tactical genius when compared to her Brothers and Sisters, she makes up for tenfold in her tenacity. Possessing a determination that could be likened to the corrupted Eastern City-States of Ixhun, she doggedly pursues that which she desires until she has it in her grasp.
Assignment Grade: Nelchitl's Assignment Grade is Kappa. She possesses no ability to actively harness and unleash her latent psychic ability, though it manifests regularly as miraculously lucky events.
Biography: Taken by the warp, Nelchitl spent several decades of real time in the turbulent tides of the immaterium until finally her pod exited the warp and fell to the surface of Ixhun. Her pod had landed just beyond the walls of the city-state of Ocotopec on a day wrought with unnatural thunderstorms. It is said by the priesthood that the pod carrying Nelchitl traveled to ground on a lightning bolt sent from the Sun Above, though those that actually witnessed its entrance would say it more so just appeared a dozen meters off the ground before striking the dirt at speed.
Taken in by the priesthood of Ocotopec, Neclhitl's peculiarities soon became apparent. Just a handful of years after her arrival to Ixhun she was nearing the size of an adult and possessed an intellect that far outstripped the best the priesthood had to offer. Through her raising in the priesthood Nelchitl was brought up to be a devout follower of the Sun worshiping religion on Ixhun, even achieving full priesthood herself at the standard age of just seven.
At the same time that her religious zeal was being instilled into her, it became apparent that the girl from the storm possessed a strength, speed, and reaction time that far surpassed some of the best among the warrior caste of Ixhun and at the behest of the priests she was to be trained in martial ways, for to protect ones city was to give the ultimate service of sacrifice to the Sun Above. As her training progressed she quickly outgrew the capacity for her teachers to show her the way of fighting on Ixhun, leaving only true combat to further her skills as a warrior.
In her first battle with the Easterners she learned what it was like to truly use her abilities to their fullest. Where as she trained she had been limiting herself, against the unending tide of the East she could let go of her mental chains and funnel herself into the violent, instinctual nature of combat. Within only a month of fighting for Ixhun she had been seen as fit to lead at first a small unit of men, her ability to rally and inspire the men with even the slightest of words and her actions alone invaluable to the defense of Ocotopec.
As Nelchitl quickly rose in glory on the battlements of Ocotopec more and more men were trusted to her command. Though at first she accepted she became hesitant and even wary as it became clear to her that commanding every troop movement and deployment on a battlefield just fell outside of her range of interest despite the fact she was more than capable at accomplishing them. Denying near continuous offers to take more and more control of the warriors of Ocotopec and the surrounding city-states, Nelchitl found herself content to lead a smaller group of hand picked veterans from among the cities warriors.
After the meeting with the Emperor Nelchitl was quickly ferried off world to the behemoth void ships waiting above. Though the entire experience was jarring to say the least, it did not distress her as much as it would have a normal human. In only a matter of about two weeks Nelchitl was fluent in High Gothic, almost completely read up on the history of the Crusade to date, and a veritable master of a host of melee weaponry from the armorers inventory.
Since her acquaintance with the XVII Legion she has led the Legion in the successful conquest of dozens of systems, the annihilation of several xenos races, and the reconstitution of a handful of lost human colonies to the Imperiums control. Along the way she has earmarked feral and feudal jungle worlds as she has come across them as recruiting planets for the XVII.
The Meeting:
They had come that night just as they had come for every night as long as Nelchitl could remember. The chanting from the Easterners heralded their arrival, and though it had always struck a sense of unease into the brave warriors of the city-state of Ocotopec, today was different. There had been word from messengers all along the city-states that formed the united front against the East, word that unsettled every denizen of Ocotopec to the very core even as the sun shone bright above their heads. The East had broken the line in more than three dozen cities. Michoacan, Azultepec, Coapulco, and Cihultan to name only a small fraction of those that had fallen just hours before the sun had risen above the land.
Even with this news there had still been hope. Reinforcements from city-states further behind the line had been dispatched to reclaim some of the cities lost the night before during the day. But these reinforcements would barely arrive before dusk, the task of retaking a fully defended city nearly impossible even for the united fronts combined strength. Instead the word had been sent ahead of these approaching armies, to defend to the last, to serve as the rearguard for the evacuation and withdrawal of the bulk of the forces still standing on the front to the next designated line.
Nelchitl watched from atop the walls of Ocotopec as the treeline some four hundred meters away began to flicker with the light of torches, the warriors around her exchanging nervous glances as the torches continued to come to life in front of them. From a quick glance Nelchitl numbered the Easterners at well over twenty thousand strong. She grinned as the idea of her death played out in her mind. It was glorious. Marred in the blood of her enemies, surrounded by the slain, her weapon broken and discarded with only her fists and body remaining as a weapon. Slowly but surely she would succumb to the endless tide of their foe, but she could already taste the cries of a hundred hundred Eastern men as they died at her hand on her tongue, and she craved the dream come reality.
There was a low rumble at first as the Easterners began to beat their weapons against trees and palms, then a horn blared followed by more and more until they were drowned out by the cries of the tidal wave of Easterners charging the walls of Ocotopec.
Turning to the spearmen alongside her Nelchitl looked down upon them with a smile upon her lips, "Today we die for the Fifth Sun!" she exclaimed as the warriors took up the chant with her while the Easterners closed the distance. At once, the well versed warriors of Ocotopec threw their spears into the writhing mass of men before them felling a hundred or more in the first volley. Quickly they took up their spears and threw volley after volley into the charging men. Nelchitl watched as the missiles made barely a dent in the oncoming foe, her grin growing ever wider.
She grabbed a spear from the closest man and let it fly with a force none in the united front could match. She watched as the spear passed through three men before she lost it in the charging wave. She took another spear and continued to send them forth one after another until no spears remained along the walls of Ocotopec for any to throw.The battle had quickly devolved after the defenders had run out of spears and missiles. The walls had been reached in no time, and though the defenders had tried valiantly to fight off every ladder and grappling hook that came over the parapet it could never have been enough to stop them all.
The first Easterners to make it to the top of the walls were met with clubs and swords and sent back to their kin below as quickly as they had reached the top of the wall. But the tide continued to flow up and over the wall, the Easterners numbers simply unstoppable no matter how tenaciously the defenders fought for their ground. Slowly the wall was lost, and though Nelchitl was remiss to give up the high ground she would never forgive herself for dying before her club had broken in the skulls of the foe. Though instead of falling back down the wall and into the city proper with the rest of her warriors she followed the taste of her glorious end over the wall and into the mass of Easterners pressed beneath her.
Landing with the cracking of several bodies beneath her, Nelchitl had quickly pressed into the confused foe before her clearing a considerable breathe around herself as she clubbed down scores of men in the torch light. She watched as with every swing of her club a handful of men fell before her only to be replaced by twice the amount in moments.
The initial space she had cleared for herself quickly closing back in around her as the Easterners got their wits back Nelchitl could see the end as she continued her ruthless assault into the eternal foe of her people. Swinging her club became harder as the space became less and less until finally Nelchitl was forced to drop the weapon as the press of bodies around her made it near impossible to swing it efficiently. Forced to use her fists in a tight press of people she systematically struck the Easterners closest to her and reveled in the sounds of snapping necks and cracking skulls with each meaty hit of her fists.
Fighting like she never had in her life, Nelchitl ignored the countless wounds she had already received as she continued her relentless strikes until almost all at once she became engulfed in the Easterners. The night sky simply ceased to exist as the Easterners piled onto her with knives and spears lashing out in the press of bodies.
She made peace in that moment, knowing that she had taken more men to the grave than any had ever managed. The blood she had spilled that night would sate the Sun Above for months to come, ensuring the protection of her people for even longer than she could have hoped. As she closed her eyes a blinding light pierced through the pile of bodies around her and as quickly as she had found herself engulfed Nelchitl was free from beneath the unending press of men. Rising she found that the Easterners that had been surrounding her were simply gone, but all the more astonishing was the sun now shining bright above the city.
In complete awe Nelchitl watched as the Sun above the city descended, falling toward the wall just meters in front of her. Completely transfixed by the miracle taking place before her she barely registered as the ethereal light shifted into a man and came to rest gently atop the parapet. She found herself shaking as she watched the spectacle unfold, the figure atop the wall turning his gaze directly to her as his radiance continued to spread around him and engulf the battle plains in a warm summer glow.
"My Daughter," the figure spoke with the most beautiful voice that had ever graced Nelchitl's ears, "I am not too late." he smiled at her.
Nelchitl fell to her knees at the words of the God before her, sobs wracking her body as the Sun once more fell softly from his perch atop the wall to ground in front of her. In only a stride he was before her, and she watched in rapturous supplication through her clouded eyes as the God before her reached down and wiped the tears from her face, "Rise, my child, it has been far too long in searching to find you. Were I only sooner." He spoke to her.
Nelchitl rose as around the two figures fire began to rain from the sky. Large objects fell to the plain around them and almost exploding from within came armor clad warriors of red and white that descended upon the stunned horde of the Easterners with a ruthless efficiency.
As booms and explosions sounded around them, Nelchitl without a second thought spoke to the divine being before her, "Father..." she replied as tears once more flowed freely from her.
"Father." she repeated as she thought to herself in a combination of surprise and utter elation at the idea that the phrase was a fact. So ingrained in her it was that she knew it to be true to her very soul.
The Serpents of the Sun
Formerly known as the Frontrunners, renamed upon the arrival of Nelchitl
Legion Number: XVII
Legion Strength: 105,000 Astartes Countless Imperial Army, Mechanicum and other supporting units
Armour Appearance:
Standard Mk IV Veteran Marine
Standard Mk IV Tactical Marine
Standard Legion Apothecary
Standard Legion Devastator
Standard Legion Assaulter
Warcry: Upon Nelchitl's assumption of command of the legion, the warcries quickly changed to reflect the adoration and respect the Legion held for its new Primarch. Specifically the Legions warcries are based in the mythology of their Primarchs homeworld.
"For the Fifth Sun!" "For the Serpent!" "We Run to War!" (Old Warcry, allowed by Nelchitl)
Dramatis Personae: (Will expand as needed)
XVII Legion
The 685th Expeditionary Fleet
Xipil Nenetl - Captain of the First Company
Itzel Mayalen - Captain of the Second Company
Atl Yaotl - Captain of the Third Company
Gabriella Fernandez - Captain of the Seventh Company
Maya Garcia - Chief Apothecary
Non-Astartes
Sofia Di Fabrizio - Mistress of the Fleet
Mandred Leben - Lord Commander of the Army
Lady Catalina de Cadaval - Lord of House Cadaval, Questor Imperialis
Hayden Andradez - Master of Astropaths
Octavian - Mechanicum Representative
Jules Hugo-Lyones - Remembrancer of the 685th Expeditionary Fleet
The 691st Expeditionary Fleet
Peña Santoval - Chief Apothecary
Mocel - Sergeant, 31st Company
Non-Astartes
Admiral Antonia Rivera - Master of the Fleet
Genetor Prata Petruvio - Magos Biologis of the 691st
Major Vitrius Khan - Tallbern Royal Dragoons
Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: The major emphasis of the Serpents of the Sun is on maneuver warfare and combined arms during the daylight hours. With nearly a third of the Legion made up of Devastator Squads, the Serpents prefer to lock an opponent in place at key locations in a battle with overwhelming fires from these squads before sending in Tactical and Assault Squads to maneuver on and destroy the pinned down force using a combination of Dreadnought and mechanized armored assault carriers vehicles to close the distance.
At the same time, the Legion relies on the support of the Imperial Army in this tactic. Specifically it is the Imperial Army that must engage with and delay larger portions of a battle front in order for the Serpents to successfully take key positions and key leaders to ensure a swift resolution to all battles. As the Imperial Army holds a pivotal part in the Legions battle strategy, most of the Legion Sisters hold an above average level of appreciation for the role the average Imperial Soldier plays in the Legion, and the Imperiums successes.
Though the Legion prefers to assault during the day, it is still perfectly capable of night fighting.
Legion Characteristics/Ideology:
The Legion itself is rather unique in the fact that it's Primarch believes the Emperor to be the manifestation of the Sun, the one true God. Many among the Legion adhere to their Primarchs claim of the Emperors divinity, though not all within the Legion have been so keen on following in Nelchitl's reverence in the Emperor. Many of the initial Veteran Founding Marines that remain and the new Aspirants that have been recruited from the jungles of Ixhun have been quick to take up the torch of their geneseed and follow Nelchitl in the worship of the Emperor. But recruits from jungle planets other than Ixhun have been harder to bring to the light of the truth of the Emperor. This has caused a healthy amount of issues among the Legion. Despite this, Nelchitl allows these opposing views to persist, confident that it creates an air of rivalry among the Aspirants and new Astartes that is required to grow their martial prowess and better the Legion.
Majority devout followers to their Primarch's new faith, the Legion has a reverence among them for all things Emperor related. Be it His name, His past actions, or His orders to the Legion. Everything about the Emperor is approached with a devotion to its every word. Though much of their Primarch's religion before her rediscovery has been left on Ixhun, parts have been carried over to the Legion and stuck quite well within it's already set in warrior culture. Particularly the Legion has taken a great liking to the iconography of the Sun so common in the Sun-based religion of Ixhun, adopting a sun with a halo of light as the center piece of their Legion Standard. This icon has become the emblem of the Legion itself, visible clearly on the left pauldron of every Astartes in the entire Legion.
Taking a great reverence in the idea of the Suns protection, Nelchitl and the majority of her Legion see it as a vital duty in all of their battles to fight in the light of the Sun. This is to ensure that the Emperor can watch as they wage holy battle and claim glory in his name. When forced to fight at night, the Legion takes a far more somber mood and appears vaguely upset at the fact that the Emperor will not be able to "see" the glory carried out in his name.
XVII Legion Rituals The most controversial of holdovers from Nelchitl's original religion that have been brought to the Legion are those that involve ritual sacrifice and cannibalism. As on Ixhun the Legion does not sacrifice it's own or Imperial citizens, instead opting to sacrifice captured enemies. So serious is this business that every company within the Legion is given a set number of enemies to capture in every engagement they take part in to be offered as sacrifices upon the conclusion of the fighting. These rituals are often performed on planet at high points in terrain to be closer to the sun at its zenith. Though the myriad rituals the Legion still takes part in can be carried out by any Astartes member the most important ritual sacrifices are carried out by the Legions Chaplains. Of the highest importance is the Rite of Flame, involving the extraction of the sacrifices heart (or equivalent of) while still beating and immediately burning it as an offering to the Emperor.
The second most important ritual within the XVII is that of The Transition. The Transition is the moment that an Aspirant, proven of their courage and skill in battle is to be inducted into the ranks of their fellow Astartes. Commonly completed in groups of ten to a hundred Aspirants at once, the Aspirants are brought to the highest point available and it is here that Chaplains once more cut the beating hearts from whatever unfortunate enemies of the Legion managed to get themselves captured instead of killed. The hearts are presented to the Aspirants who must consume it while the heart still beats. To fail to do so is to forfeit ones position in the Legion and ones life in service to the Emperor. Normally if an Aspirant fails this far into their trials, they are disposed of on the spot, though the instances of failure here are rare.
Of great importance to Aspirants is position within The Transition, the closer to the front an Aspirant the more it is said that they are marked for greatness within the Legion. On certain occasions involving more than a hundred Astartes, Nelchitl herself will oversea the ritual, herself carrying out the first sacrifice and offering the heart to the Aspirant at the top of their respective peer group. Without fail these Aspirants have always come to greatness in the Legion as Company Commanders, Assault Marines, and other highly sought after and respected positions.
The Serpents have a sour relationship with the Imperial Soldiers that work alongside them. Though it is not their choice, as many among the Legion would be more than grateful to be revered as many soldiers of the Imperium do for the Legions they work alongside. It is in fact the fault of their Primarch that the Imperial Soldiers dislike the Legion. Many claim her a bad luck charm behind closed doors, a heathen, a cannibal, and a worshiper of the Emperor going directly against his own words. As such, though the Astartes of the Legion have a good deal of respect for their Imperial allies and the role they play, they are seldom able to interact with them. There are well documented cases of past disagreements and foul words toward Nelchitl leading to unnecessary deaths. Nelchitl has issued a general order for all Astartes to keep interaction with the Imperial Army to strictly business matters.
The Serpents place a great deal of respect in the members of their Assault Squads. Being seen as directly following in the footsteps of their lauded Primarch, Assault Marines are not simply chosen based off of standard metrics. Instead Assault Marines are chosen through a number of daunting and deadly trials, many of which involve completing these trials during combat against a true enemy of the Legion and not just some wild animal on Ixhun as Aspirants might be required to. Though it is not expressly stated, it is barely a secret that in order to enter the ranks of the Assault Squads the Astartes in question must adhere to the truth of the Emperors divinity. Due to this elevated respect, many Assault Marines are sought after by other members of the Legion as mentors and trainers, with Veteran Assault Marines being in charge of the recruiting and training of all Legion Aspirants. With all of this in mind, Assault Marines enjoy elevated privilege with their Primarch and are the most veteran among them are held in close confidence.
Relationships:
The Emperor: Regarded as a God by Nelchitl and the majority of the Legion. The Legion takes no pride in the fact that they constantly ignore the Emperors claims that he is not a God and to stop their worship, but instead undertake their faith with a solemn devotion that it must be done in order to one day force the Emperor to admit to his divinity. --
Other Primarchs: Complicated beyond good reason. Though all the Primarchs are without a doubt her kin, rivalries and bad blood exist nonetheless. --
Other Legions: Despite her less than ideal relationship with her Brothers and Sisters, Nelchitl and the XVII Legion are more than willing to work with them to achieve victory for the Emperor. Whether other Legions are willing to work with the XVII is up to the Legions in question. --
The Steel Sentinels: Though confounded by the Steel Sentinels reliance on Neophytes as their central combatant structure, the Serpents have been thus far unable to argue with the glories that the Sentinels continue to amass with this new stratagem. Coupled with their ferocious actions when seemingly on the back foot, the Serpents hold a certain level of respect in the abilities of the Sentinels despite their non-offensive focus. --
Imperial Army: Though wanting to have better relations with the IA, the Serpents have had little success in converting the common soldiery view of the Emperor to their faith and have in fact only widened the divide felt between the two entities. Despite this they are always willing to work with the IA in the name of the Emperor and take no real offense to any words that the unenlightened mortals have. For one day, they shall know their folly and seek the truth of all things. --
The Mechanicum: Though Nelchitl is wary of the many hidden agendas of the Mechanicum she can not understate their importance to the Crusade and her Legion. In a move quite out of her own character, she has tried her best to foster a mutually beneficial relationship with the Mechanicum in a bid for greater support and the much desired addition of an Adeptus Titanicus Legio to her Expeditionary Fleet. --
Xenos:Xenos existence is an affront to the perfection of the God Emperor. --
A dense jungle planet located in the Segmentum Pacificus. Originally colonized in the later stages of the Age of Technology, Ixhun was to be used as a major exporter of wood and exotic animals among other jungle related goods.
As the planet received a handful of STCs and more colonists began to bolster its population in preparation for the exploitation of its resources, great warp storms cut the entire system from the rest of mankind even before news of the Men of Irons revolt was able to reach them. Ixhun, like many other planets, was plunged into a state of disarray. For millennia Ixhun remained cut off from the greater whole of mankind. The population of Ixhun finding itself split almost down the middle as the Warp Storms influence began to corrupt the jungle, animals, and even the populace themselves. At first the change was subtle on Ixhun, animals migrating enmasse for unexplained reasons, great blights upon the jungle, and eventually, the loss of contact with the city-states of the Eastern hemisphere.
When the war began it was without warning. In the dead of night the combined forces of the now corrupted Eastern city-states had fell upon the pure states of the West. The fighting was brief, and several smaller cities fell to the sudden onslaught, but as quickly as the attacks had begun they had ended just before sunrise. This pattern continued as night after night the Eastern states attacked only to withdraw before dawn in the event of unsuccessful sieges.
In desperate wars for survival, the loyalist city-states in the Western hemisphere of Ixhun warred with the savage and unrelenting corrupted city-states of the East. Over time the warring took its toll on what little infrastructure and industry existed on Ixhun, causing the planet to slowly revert back to a nearly feral state of technology and knowledge. Weapons slowly moved back to melee focuses as the STCs were one by one lost or simply unable to be maintained by the loyalists.
As the wars raged, the loyalist city-states found themselves pushed ever further back by the (unbeknownst to them) corrupted city-states of the East. Falling back into great walled cities of stone the Western city-states would continue their nightly fight against the East from behind their walls for the next several centuries. This everlasting conflict saw the populace of the West recognizing the Easts apparent disdain of the sun, and in time the West built great flat topped pyramids to perform rituals closer to the Sun, adopted symbology and a mythos that revered the Sun as their ardent protector, a God that kept the night at bay.
The fighting as well gave rise to a great warrior culture, placing emphasis on ones combat ability above most other forms of intellectual pursuits and seeing the ascendancy of great Priestly Warrior Kings within the city-states themselves. Seen as the chosen of the Sun and the protectors of its light, the Kings were worshiped on the level of a deity, and ritual sacrifices of captured enemies were offered to them just before nightfall in order ensure their protection from the encroaching dark lest they fail in their duty to their cities.
Following the discovery of Ixhun by the Imperium, the planet was allowed to remain in its feral state of existence, it's warriors providing ideal stock for the XVII Legion now united with their Primarch. Along with being allowed to remain feral, the war has not ended on Ixhun. The Imperium, and specifically a small detachment of Serpents of the Sun serving in recruiting duties take up periodic culling operations against the Eastern nations to ensure that the West, and their stock of viable recruits, is not over run and destroyed. This has perpetuated the war on Ixhun which has continued to remain at status quo as it has for centuries.
Appearance:
Coming in at 9' 2", Nelchitl is on the smaller side of her brother Primarchs in size, but is relatively even with her sister Primarchs. With dark brown eyes known to deeply entrance or unsettle most mortals Nelchitl looks upon and black hair to match, she is a strikingly beautiful Primarch stirring great emotions in all mortals who gaze upon her. Though her beauty flickers and falters when compared to her sister Primarch Nimue, her beauty is yet undeniable. Possessing a far more lithe figure than the majority of her brothers, Nelchitl is not lacking in strength despite this apparent size difference.
When not in her power armor, Nelchitl opts to wear rather standard Astartes robes and a body glove beneath it.
War Gear: -A set of custom armor directly drawn from the lessons learned in creating armor for the Sisters of Silence. It provides far better protection and ease of movement than her Legionnaires standard Mk II and Mk IV armor sets.
-A massive, single handed, double edged chainsword. Likened to the simple but brutal teethed weapons of Ixhun before the arrival of the Emperor.
-A custom made, master crafted plasma pistol. Larger than the average plasma pistol, this variant possesses the ability to fire further than standard plasma pistols and can fire up to 18 plasma bolts reliably before a risk of overheating.
Personality: While Nelchitl's brothers and sisters are patient strategists and calculating logisticians, naval genius's and thousand year empire builders, Nelchitl is none of these things. The tedium of war councils do not suit her, the endless numbers and data sets of the logistics of war bore her, the complex navigational and firing data of naval engagements mean little to her mind, and the finesse of diplomacy required in empire building fails her. Impatient and ever wanting for the next burst of excitement in her life, Nelchitl is very much the antithesis of the vast majority of the children of the Emperor.
Possessing a lust for excitement beyond simply thrill seeking, Nelchitl often places herself at the forefront of her Assault Squads actions much to the horror of her veteran Captains and officers. With a tenacity practically unrivaled among her siblings, Nelchitl is relentless in her pursuit of that which she craves. Be it the next hill in thick combat, a planet teeming with xenos filth, or man and material to sate her Legions unending thirst for resources. She pushes forward by what means she has along the path most open to her victory until the victory is hers to relish in.
Nelchitl is by no means a blind war crazed Primarch. She understands that not all battles can be won and is more than willing to withdraw a failed bid for the chance at victory another day. Though she possesses a mind more suited to battle than the planning surrounding every engagement, she is more than aware of that fact and leaves the majority of planning to her trusted war council.
Skills:
The Suns Fortune - At times it has appeared to those that lay witness to it as if Nelchitl possesses an uncanny amount of luck at times when even her fellow Astartes have pulled a bad lot in life. Though not documented, it is claimed among the Legion that Nelchitl has walked away from shot down Thunderhawks while her entire retinue has not, that she has emerged barely burnt after artillery barrages that leveled entire sections of Imperial Soldiers and Astartes alike. Though her Legion sees this as all the more reason to follow her, the Imperial Soldiers among them see it as though the game has been rigged against them from the moment she arrived.
The Serpents Tenacity - What Nelchitl lacks in strategic vision or tactical genius when compared to her Brothers and Sisters, she makes up for tenfold in her tenacity. Possessing a determination that could be likened to the corrupted Eastern City-States of Ixhun, she doggedly pursues that which she desires until she has it in her grasp.
Assignment Grade: Nelchitl's Assignment Grade is Kappa. She possesses no ability to actively harness and unleash her latent psychic ability, though it manifests regularly as miraculously lucky events.
Biography: Taken by the warp, Nelchitl spent several decades of real time in the turbulent tides of the immaterium until finally her pod exited the warp and fell to the surface of Ixhun. Her pod had landed just beyond the walls of the city-state of Ocotopec on a day wrought with unnatural thunderstorms. It is said by the priesthood that the pod carrying Nelchitl traveled to ground on a lightning bolt sent from the Sun Above, though those that actually witnessed its entrance would say it more so just appeared a dozen meters off the ground before striking the dirt at speed.
Taken in by the priesthood of Ocotopec, Neclhitl's peculiarities soon became apparent. Just a handful of years after her arrival to Ixhun she was nearing the size of an adult and possessed an intellect that far outstripped the best the priesthood had to offer. Through her raising in the priesthood Nelchitl was brought up to be a devout follower of the Sun worshiping religion on Ixhun, even achieving full priesthood herself at the standard age of just seven.
At the same time that her religious zeal was being instilled into her, it became apparent that the girl from the storm possessed a strength, speed, and reaction time that far surpassed some of the best among the warrior caste of Ixhun and at the behest of the priests she was to be trained in martial ways, for to protect ones city was to give the ultimate service of sacrifice to the Sun Above. As her training progressed she quickly outgrew the capacity for her teachers to show her the way of fighting on Ixhun, leaving only true combat to further her skills as a warrior.
In her first battle with the Easterners she learned what it was like to truly use her abilities to their fullest. Where as she trained she had been limiting herself, against the unending tide of the East she could let go of her mental chains and funnel herself into the violent, instinctual nature of combat. Within only a month of fighting for Ixhun she had been seen as fit to lead at first a small unit of men, her ability to rally and inspire the men with even the slightest of words and her actions alone invaluable to the defense of Ocotopec.
As Nelchitl quickly rose in glory on the battlements of Ocotopec more and more men were trusted to her command. Though at first she accepted she became hesitant and even wary as it became clear to her that commanding every troop movement and deployment on a battlefield just fell outside of her range of interest despite the fact she was more than capable at accomplishing them. Denying near continuous offers to take more and more control of the warriors of Ocotopec and the surrounding city-states, Nelchitl found herself content to lead a smaller group of hand picked veterans from among the cities warriors.
After the meeting with the Emperor Nelchitl was quickly ferried off world to the behemoth void ships waiting above. Though the entire experience was jarring to say the least, it did not distress her as much as it would have a normal human. In only a matter of about two weeks Nelchitl was fluent in High Gothic, almost completely read up on the history of the Crusade to date, and a veritable master of a host of melee weaponry from the armorers inventory.
Since her acquaintance with the XVII Legion she has led the Legion in the successful conquest of dozens of systems, the annihilation of several xenos races, and the reconstitution of a handful of lost human colonies to the Imperiums control. Along the way she has earmarked feral and feudal jungle worlds as she has come across them as recruiting planets for the XVII.
The Meeting:
They had come that night just as they had come for every night as long as Nelchitl could remember. The chanting from the Easterners heralded their arrival, and though it had always struck a sense of unease into the brave warriors of the city-state of Ocotopec, today was different. There had been word from messengers all along the city-states that formed the united front against the East, word that unsettled every denizen of Ocotopec to the very core even as the sun shone bright above their heads. The East had broken the line in more than three dozen cities. Michoacan, Azultepec, Coapulco, and Cihultan to name only a small fraction of those that had fallen just hours before the sun had risen above the land.
Even with this news there had still been hope. Reinforcements from city-states further behind the line had been dispatched to reclaim some of the cities lost the night before during the day. But these reinforcements would barely arrive before dusk, the task of retaking a fully defended city nearly impossible even for the united fronts combined strength. Instead the word had been sent ahead of these approaching armies, to defend to the last, to serve as the rearguard for the evacuation and withdrawal of the bulk of the forces still standing on the front to the next designated line.
Nelchitl watched from atop the walls of Ocotopec as the treeline some four hundred meters away began to flicker with the light of torches, the warriors around her exchanging nervous glances as the torches continued to come to life in front of them. From a quick glance Nelchitl numbered the Easterners at well over twenty thousand strong. She grinned as the idea of her death played out in her mind. It was glorious. Marred in the blood of her enemies, surrounded by the slain, her weapon broken and discarded with only her fists and body remaining as a weapon. Slowly but surely she would succumb to the endless tide of their foe, but she could already taste the cries of a hundred hundred Eastern men as they died at her hand on her tongue, and she craved the dream come reality.
There was a low rumble at first as the Easterners began to beat their weapons against trees and palms, then a horn blared followed by more and more until they were drowned out by the cries of the tidal wave of Easterners charging the walls of Ocotopec.
Turning to the spearmen alongside her Nelchitl looked down upon them with a smile upon her lips, "Today we die for the Fifth Sun!" she exclaimed as the warriors took up the chant with her while the Easterners closed the distance. At once, the well versed warriors of Ocotopec threw their spears into the writhing mass of men before them felling a hundred or more in the first volley. Quickly they took up their spears and threw volley after volley into the charging men. Nelchitl watched as the missiles made barely a dent in the oncoming foe, her grin growing ever wider.
She grabbed a spear from the closest man and let it fly with a force none in the united front could match. She watched as the spear passed through three men before she lost it in the charging wave. She took another spear and continued to send them forth one after another until no spears remained along the walls of Ocotopec for any to throw.The battle had quickly devolved after the defenders had run out of spears and missiles. The walls had been reached in no time, and though the defenders had tried valiantly to fight off every ladder and grappling hook that came over the parapet it could never have been enough to stop them all.
The first Easterners to make it to the top of the walls were met with clubs and swords and sent back to their kin below as quickly as they had reached the top of the wall. But the tide continued to flow up and over the wall, the Easterners numbers simply unstoppable no matter how tenaciously the defenders fought for their ground. Slowly the wall was lost, and though Nelchitl was remiss to give up the high ground she would never forgive herself for dying before her club had broken in the skulls of the foe. Though instead of falling back down the wall and into the city proper with the rest of her warriors she followed the taste of her glorious end over the wall and into the mass of Easterners pressed beneath her.
Landing with the cracking of several bodies beneath her, Nelchitl had quickly pressed into the confused foe before her clearing a considerable breathe around herself as she clubbed down scores of men in the torch light. She watched as with every swing of her club a handful of men fell before her only to be replaced by twice the amount in moments.
The initial space she had cleared for herself quickly closing back in around her as the Easterners got their wits back Nelchitl could see the end as she continued her ruthless assault into the eternal foe of her people. Swinging her club became harder as the space became less and less until finally Nelchitl was forced to drop the weapon as the press of bodies around her made it near impossible to swing it efficiently. Forced to use her fists in a tight press of people she systematically struck the Easterners closest to her and reveled in the sounds of snapping necks and cracking skulls with each meaty hit of her fists.
Fighting like she never had in her life, Nelchitl ignored the countless wounds she had already received as she continued her relentless strikes until almost all at once she became engulfed in the Easterners. The night sky simply ceased to exist as the Easterners piled onto her with knives and spears lashing out in the press of bodies.
She made peace in that moment, knowing that she had taken more men to the grave than any had ever managed. The blood she had spilled that night would sate the Sun Above for months to come, ensuring the protection of her people for even longer than she could have hoped. As she closed her eyes a blinding light pierced through the pile of bodies around her and as quickly as she had found herself engulfed Nelchitl was free from beneath the unending press of men. Rising she found that the Easterners that had been surrounding her were simply gone, but all the more astonishing was the sun now shining bright above the city.
In complete awe Nelchitl watched as the Sun above the city descended, falling toward the wall just meters in front of her. Completely transfixed by the miracle taking place before her she barely registered as the ethereal light shifted into a man and came to rest gently atop the parapet. She found herself shaking as she watched the spectacle unfold, the figure atop the wall turning his gaze directly to her as his radiance continued to spread around him and engulf the battle plains in a warm summer glow.
"My Daughter," the figure spoke with the most beautiful voice that had ever graced Nelchitl's ears, "I am not too late." he smiled at her.
Nelchitl fell to her knees at the words of the God before her, sobs wracking her body as the Sun once more fell softly from his perch atop the wall to ground in front of her. In only a stride he was before her, and she watched in rapturous supplication through her clouded eyes as the God before her reached down and wiped the tears from her face, "Rise, my child, it has been far too long in searching to find you. Were I only sooner." He spoke to her.
Nelchitl rose as around the two figures fire began to rain from the sky. Large objects fell to the plain around them and almost exploding from within came armor clad warriors of red and white that descended upon the stunned horde of the Easterners with a ruthless efficiency.
As booms and explosions sounded around them, Nelchitl without a second thought spoke to the divine being before her, "Father..." she replied as tears once more flowed freely from her.
"Father." she repeated as she thought to herself in a combination of surprise and utter elation at the idea that the phrase was a fact. So ingrained in her it was that she knew it to be true to her very soul.
The Serpents of the Sun
Formerly known as the Frontrunners, renamed upon the arrival of Nelchitl
Legion Number: XVII
Legion Strength: 105,000 Astartes Countless Imperial Army, Mechanicum and other supporting units
Armour Appearance:
Standard Mk IV Tactical Marine
Standard Legion Apothecary
Standard Legion Devastator
Standard Legion Assaulter
Warcry: Upon Nelchitl's assumption of command of the legion, the warcries quickly changed to reflect the adoration and respect the Legion held for its new Primarch. Specifically the Legions warcries are based in the mythology of their Primarchs homeworld.
"For the Fifth Sun!" "For the Serpent!" "We Run to War!" (Old Warcry, allowed by Nelchitl)
Dramatis Personae: (Will expand as needed)
XVII Legion
Xipil Nenetl - Captain of the First Company
Itzel Mayalen - Captain of the Second Company
Atl Yaotl - Captain of the Third Company
Gabriella Fernandez - Captain of the Seventh Company
Maya Garcia - Chief Apothecary
Non-Astartes
Sofia Di Fabrizio - Mistress of the Fleet
Mandred Leben - Lord Commander of the Army
Hayden Andradez - Master of Astropaths
Octavian - Mechanicus Representative
Favored Tactics/Battlefield Role: The major emphasis of the Serpents of the Sun is on maneuver warfare and combined arms during the daylight hours. With nearly a third of the Legion made up of Devastator Squads, the Serpents prefer to lock an opponent in place at key locations in a battle with overwhelming fires from these squads before sending in Tactical and Assault Squads to maneuver on and destroy the pinned down force using a combination of Dreadnought and mechanized armored assault carriers vehicles to close the distance.
At the same time, the Legion relies on the support of the Imperial Army in this tactic. Specifically it is the Imperial Army that must engage with and delay larger portions of a battle front in order for the Serpents to successfully take key positions and key leaders to ensure a swift resolution to all battles. As the Imperial Army holds a pivotal part in the Legions battle strategy, most of the Legion Sisters hold an above average level of appreciation for the role the average Imperial Soldier plays in the Legion, and the Imperiums successes.
Though the Legion prefers to assault during the day, it is still perfectly capable of night fighting.
Legion Characteristics/Ideology:
The Legion itself is rather unique in the fact that it's Primarch believes the Emperor to be the manifestation of the Sun, the one true God. Many among the Legion adhere to their Primarchs claim of the Emperors divinity, though not all within the Legion have been so keen on following in Nelchitl's reverence in the Emperor. Many of the initial Veteran Founding Marines that remain and the new Aspirants that have been recruited from the jungles of Ixhun have been quick to take up the torch of their geneseed and follow Nelchitl in the worship of the Emperor. But recruits from jungle planets other than Ixhun have been harder to bring to the light of the truth of the Emperor. This has caused a healthy amount of issues among the Legion. Despite this, Nelchitl allows these opposing views to persist, confident that it creates an air of rivalry among the Aspirants and new Astartes that is required to grow their martial prowess and better the Legion.
Majority devout followers to their Primarch's new faith, the Legion has a reverence among them for all things Emperor related. Be it His name, His past actions, or His orders to the Legion. Everything about the Emperor is approached with a devotion to its every word. Though much of their Primarch's religion before her rediscovery has been left on Ixhun, parts have been carried over to the Legion and stuck quite well within it's already set in warrior culture. Particularly the Legion has taken a great liking to the iconography of the Sun so common in the Sun-based religion of Ixhun, adopting a sun with a halo of light as the center piece of their Legion Standard. This icon has become the emblem of the Legion itself, visible clearly on the left pauldron of every Astartes in the entire Legion.
Taking a great reverence in the idea of the Suns protection, Nelchitl and the majority of her Legion see it as a vital duty in all of their battles to fight in the light of the Sun. This is to ensure that the Emperor can watch as they wage holy battle and claim glory in his name. When forced to fight at night, the Legion takes a far more somber mood and appears vaguely upset at the fact that the Emperor will not be able to "see" the glory carried out in his name.
XVII Legion Rituals The most controversial of holdovers from Nelchitl's original religion that have been brought to the Legion are those that involve ritual sacrifice and cannibalism. As on Ixhun the Legion does not sacrifice it's own or Imperial citizens, instead opting to sacrifice captured enemies. So serious is this business that every company within the Legion is given a set number of enemies to capture in every engagement they take part in to be offered as sacrifices upon the conclusion of the fighting. These rituals are often performed on planet at high points in terrain to be closer to the sun at its zenith. Though the myriad rituals the Legion still takes part in can be carried out by any Astartes member the most important ritual sacrifices are carried out by the Legions Chaplains. Of the highest importance is the Rite of Flame, involving the extraction of the sacrifices heart (or equivalent of) while still beating and immediately burning it as an offering to the Emperor.
The second most important ritual within the XVII is that of The Transition. The Transition is the moment that an Aspirant, proven of their courage and skill in battle is to be inducted into the ranks of their fellow Astartes. Commonly completed in groups of ten to a hundred Aspirants at once, the Aspirants are brought to the highest point available and it is here that Chaplains once more cut the beating hearts from whatever unfortunate enemies of the Legion managed to get themselves captured instead of killed. The hearts are presented to the Aspirants who must consume it while the heart still beats. To fail to do so is to forfeit ones position in the Legion and ones life in service to the Emperor. Normally if an Aspirant fails this far into their trials, they are disposed of on the spot, though the instances of failure here are rare.
Of great importance to Aspirants is position within The Transition, the closer to the front an Aspirant the more it is said that they are marked for greatness within the Legion. On certain occasions involving more than a hundred Astartes, Nelchitl herself will oversea the ritual, herself carrying out the first sacrifice and offering the heart to the Aspirant at the top of their respective peer group. Without fail these Aspirants have always come to greatness in the Legion as Company Commanders, Assault Marines, and other highly sought after and respected positions.
The Serpents have a sour relationship with the Imperial Soldiers that work alongside them. Though it is not their choice, as many among the Legion would be more than grateful to be revered as many soldiers of the Imperium do for the Legions they work alongside. It is in fact the fault of their Primarch that the Imperial Soldiers dislike the Legion. Many claim her a bad luck charm behind closed doors, a heathen, a cannibal, and a worshiper of the Emperor going directly against his own words. As such, though the Astartes of the Legion have a good deal of respect for their Imperial allies and the role they play, they are seldom able to interact with them. There are well documented cases of past disagreements and foul words toward Nelchitl leading to unnecessary deaths. Nelchitl has issued a general order for all Astartes to keep interaction with the Imperial Army to strictly business matters.
The Serpents place a great deal of respect in the members of their Assault Squads. Being seen as directly following in the footsteps of their lauded Primarch, Assault Marines are not simply chosen based off of standard metrics. Instead Assault Marines are chosen through a number of daunting and deadly trials, many of which involve completing these trials during combat against a true enemy of the Legion and not just some wild animal on Ixhun as Aspirants might be required to. Though it is not expressly stated, it is barely a secret that in order to enter the ranks of the Assault Squads the Astartes in question must adhere to the truth of the Emperors divinity. Due to this elevated respect, many Assault Marines are sought after by other members of the Legion as mentors and trainers, with Veteran Assault Marines being in charge of the recruiting and training of all Legion Aspirants. With all of this in mind, Assault Marines enjoy elevated privilege with their Primarch and are the most veteran among them are held in close confidence.
Relationships:
The Emperor: Regarded as a God by Nelchitl and the majority of the Legion. The Legion takes no pride in the fact that they constantly ignore the Emperors claims that he is not a God and to stop their worship, but instead undertake their faith with a solemn devotion that it must be done in order to one day force the Emperor to admit to his divinity. --
**NO LONGER STANDS** Primarch Nimue Arcadia: Of all the Children of the Emperor, none more closely resembles the godhood of their Father than that of Primarch Nimue. Revered by Nelchitl as the closest among her own kin to godhood, she is looked upon by Nelchitl and the majority of the Legion as something of a demigod even among her own brothers and sisters. Though not following in Nimue's vanity, the Legion holds great respect for Nimue and the VI Legion, with several Astartes of the Serpents harboring regrets that they were not chosen to serve alongside the lesser god Nimue. --
Other Primarchs: Complicated beyond good reason. Though all the Primarchs are without a doubt her kin, rivalries and bad blood exist nonetheless. --
Other Legions: Despite her less than ideal relationship with her Brothers and Sisters, Nelchitl and the XVII Legion are more than willing to work with them to achieve victory for the Emperor. Whether other Legions are willing to work with the XVVI is up to the Legions in question. --
Imperial Army: Though wanting to have better relations with the IA, the Serpents have had little success in converting the common soldiery view of the Emperor to their faith and have in fact only widened the divide felt between the two entities. Despite this they are always willing to work with the IA in the name of the Emperor and take no real offense to any words that the unenlightened mortals have. For one day, they shall know their folly and seek the truth of all things. --
The Mechanicus: Though Nelchitl is wary of the many hidden agendas of the Mechanicum she can not understate their importance to the Crusade and her Legion. In a move quite out of her own character, she has tried her best to foster a mutually beneficial relationship with the Mechanicum in a bid for greater support and the much desired addition of an Adeptus Titanicus Legio to her Expeditionary Fleet. --
Xenos:Xenos existence is an affront to the perfection of the God Emperor. --
itarichan
