Name: Ahgnemir Thordemir Ehgnarlothna Porganiga
Nicknames: The Northern Lord - His homeworld
(generic cute furry animal(s)) - Brothers/Family
The Bear - Those who meet him can't say his name, so they say, Lord, typically will call him this behind his/Astartes/family's back.
Dwarf - When people want a fight
Homeworld: Nova Chatti
This is a frozen hell hole of a world. The only livable area is the tundra to the north of the ice flats and the frozen oceans to the south. This livable zone is tiny but brimming with life; humans live in small settlements, usually surrounded by wards, or under the lone mountain on one of the southern Coastal planes. Food is usually grown inside caves or comes from the different animals which inhabit the planet. Some have the luxury of heading to the south side of the planet, which has a migratory fisherman tribe, but the Northmen do not believe these people are real as the trek to the planet's non-frozen side is deadly, and few survive the trip to or from. The planet also has a high gravity, meaning jump packs and grav-vehicles are useless upon its surface.
But on average, they live within a two-mile radius of where they are born; the men typically do not travel more than several miles outside the warded zones. Few travel during a war, and typically it is settled on a field by throwing spears across it until a single individual was hit. Then the winner was decided, but when the wife taking and ritual slaughter came, it was almost a one-sided battle every time. The attackers usually had complete surprise over the defenders. But in some cases, the defenders do prevail.
But there are six major tribes and fifty-six minor ones. The Capitol under Inn Mountain, or Icebrook Fortress, is expansive in population compared to the surface settlements. It also has the largest clans, the clan of the North Lord, which encompasses the adopted children of the Primarch (orphans), the family of the primarch (brothers and all), and the Astartes. In the family's case, each is worshiped like walking and living gods sent to protect them from the creatures that walk the planet.
Appearance: At ten feet, he is likely one of the shortest of the Primarchs, but out of size and musculature, he is likely one of the largest as even bare; he can withstand colds most Astartes could not. He is squat and built out rather than up. His musculature shows him as a man of craft and war. It is similar to what you would find in northern latitudes a few hundred years ago, it conserves heat and is a natural body shape, but in a primaries form, it is exaggerated. His sons do not share this quality and are much like standard Astartes in height. There is a thick hair layer covering most of his body but for parts such as his hands, upper face, portions of the neck, and feet. But this is typically shaven off on a regular as it deviates too far from the standard.
His face is rather not the greatest looking; once, he would have been a beautiful man in almost perfect resemblance to his father, but fighting the beasts of his world, it was left in ruins of its former self. Most of it did heal, and you can see the resemblance of a once beautiful man, but that is faded behind torn scars and broken bones that never set correctly. He is typically seen with a mask or a veil over his face.
His hair and facial hair do poke out from the edges of it and typically is braided in some fashion to show its volume and density, but also the trophy beads and bone that hang from his hair. If you peer closely, there is a silver gem upon a bone necklace below the beard.
His attire out of battle is typically that of thick robes covered in runes or animal skins that fit different roles from basic pants to a runeforge apron.
In battle, he wears a suit of white mail over light power armor. In favor of a helmet, he wears a white veil and cloak in alpine and snow environments; it suits well to blend into the environment. It is also covered by runes, of course, which help this unnatural chameleon effect.
Humans come first - He is humane to those human worlds he finds, striving to find and bring all non majorly mutated humans back into the fold of a human empire. He strives to look as human as possible; this includes changing his appearance by shaving and making-up to hide anything that makes him seem animal-like, such as the thick hair that covers most of his body.
Pseudo-Religious - He believes there is something that comes from the warp, and he senses it; he does not know how and is relatively unaware of the power he holds in the warp. He creates runes and wards to keep demons and other malignant spirits at bay. To his knowledge, this works. His father says there is nothing but the known world, but he knows something terrible is out there, and it tries to call to him and those around him.
Partially Xeno phobic - even though extensive testing has been done on races such as the Eldar, he believes them to be human. This is due to their appearance and their gestures towards him. They are just slightly mutated in his eyes, but when you begin to deviate away from human, growing tails and extra parts when you're a definite mutant, that is when you become alien to him. He hates those aliens who can think but do not look like humans. They did not try to match humanity's greatness and must be destroyed for it. But, he does have a love for the nature of planets, trying to preserve them in any way possible inside of his fleets.
Nature-loving - He hates the industrial look of many imperial worlds; the large cities and spires drive him insane. This also puts him at odds with most mechanicum agents. The few who do enjoy his presence primarily focus on biological machines rather than metal ones. He does enjoy some mechaniucum friends, however, but that is because their machines are oddly beautiful for something made of metal.
Assistantless - His culture, or at least his original tribe took no servants or slaves; this became widespread after his ascension to the lordship of the planet. The small tribal feuds would end in some forced marriages, but the marriage was more than man and wife, as the two had to support each other to survive. Typically several wives were taken for different tasks within a homestead. The husband would provide food, and material for the homestead, while the wives kept it orderly and maintained. If either failed, the homestead would likely fail because of the planet's detrimental effects. He does have several wives, but he does not consider them servants, even though that is pretty much what they are.
Humanist - Astartes, even though super-soldiers should be human, he believes no Astarte is better than any man; he encourages them to seek human emotion and lifestyles outside of their warrior clades. To keep in touch with family, and to start their own. If possible, bring a sister or brother along. Their children with foreign world populations may help the future Astartes surge as their homeworld can only have so many people upon its natural landscapes. He is trying to find a way to have children with women himself; in secret, this is done much like modern artificial insemination, but it is why some of his previous wives are dead.
Calm - Compared to his gene family, he is considered calm between each of them, rarely angering and taking things slowly and methodically for a barbaric culture he lived in. Rarely does he lash out, to the point where one of his wives, when angry with him during the reunification with his blood father, had struck him so many times she had managed to break the mask he was wearing that day. He had stopped his father from striking the woman down as well, as she was a part of him due to their binds in marriage. But, when focused on a man who had disgraced a wife of one of his sons, the man was tortured publically.
He is a wonderful forge smith and rune crafter, leaving a little bit of himself and his soul (literally) with everything he crafts. His works are beautiful, flowing, and natural, using resources found upon the places he travels as the world(s) are for humanities taking, as that is how things naturally should be.
In warfare, he specializes in guerrilla and shock infantry tactics. Alpine, Cities, Forests, and Arctic regions are his primary locals for his favored tactics. Outside of these environments, his tactics are a baseline for a Primarch's martial abilities.
The cold has little to no effect on him as if it does not matter at all. He has been noted fasting in the below zero icefields of his homeland, meditating in runic circles. Even when some could touch him in his meditation state, he would feel like a fire burning, yet he would barely melt the snow with his body temperature. The longest he has been out being one month, but that was when he asked to come inside by someone dear to him.
Runeforger - His runes, although they are warp-based, are master crafted and unique. Each one is a beautiful sign which has its purpose, but with this. He leaves a little bit of his soul and blood inside each rune he crafts, as he believes that is what wards off the evil spirits and monsters that infest his planet and warp while traveling.
Assignment Grade: Beta - Rune Forger, with his homeworld in proximity to the largest Warpstorm that has persisted, the first primarch was granted power from beings beyond his knowledge. They placed him upon his world, and he felt the world around him but did not know-how; those who took him in told him of Runes and Warding away evil spirits. He does not know/believe he is a psyker, but those runes he crafts typically do as they're intended to do. But he also refuses to believe that it is anything but his natural abilities as a primarch and that anyone can learn his ways. This is primarily out of ignorance.
Before the emperor, upon his entry into Nova Chatti's atmosphere, he had sailed across the solar system Suebi for a month before landing upon its frozen surface. With this time, the Eye's warp energies and the sun's radiation have created a hotbed for warp energy to spawn and manifest. Luckily for him, his reentry had warded off much of the chaotic spirits trying to bury themselves inside his memories. He had landed inside of a settlement near the northern pole of New Chatti. His body had adapted to the planet quickly, his infant state growing thick hair across his body and adapting rapidly to the cold.
By the time he was a teenager, he had been left on accident once outside. He was magnificent, but his neglectful adopted parents were surprised in his survival; they placed an amulet around his neck, which was toward him when away from home. Something which can withstand below zero temperatures could not be taken by the spirits that lurked beyond the totem wall. Thankfully, the teenager had grown up well within the mile or so of his birth.
His fifteenth sutensday was a surprise when his rather isolated village was attacked by a neighboring village, having never left home. He was told to hide while the men fought as if he was found, the women would be slaughtered as well. He was still an outsider, and he was a bad omen for several surrounding tribes due to his height. He could have easily passed for a giant by this age, but unluckily for him, he would not grow much taller as an adult. But the opposing tribe, the Inn, would be victorious, and the village would be ransacked for women and children to add as slaves. He was luckily never found.
When he left, he found a spear, not that of his adopted father, but it was a spear of his tribe, then set out to hunt those who had destroyed his home and the safety of his home. Reaching out beyond the totem wall, he found nothing but howling wind and bloody snow that tracked for miles.
This he would follow, for days and nights he did. Stalking through the barren snow wasteland behind the Inn and what was left of his people, they eventually reached a mountain. This mountain was built upon a cave system, one which the Inn resided in. It was massive and coated by a fungus that lived on the roof and illuminated the typically frozen and dark planet. As the ice turned black, he had made his move into the cave system, to which his slaughter had begun.
A day later, the Inn's last was under his banner; they had barricaded themselves in with the slaves and had such become slaves themselves. Instead of making them slaves, he decided to free each one inside and create a new tribe, one that would rule over the area's surrounding the mountain. The tribe of the Northern Lord was born, and it waged war upon tribe after tribe. Until it conquered the entire world, or what was habitable on the world, some two hundred miles of land spanned to the North of the Mountain.
By the time he was eighteen, he had five wives. One for each month of the year, but this was primarily to clean his home, cook for him and his guests, finance his home and life, and two for political reasons. After two years of constant war, he decided that it was enough for him. He had been raised in a decent home, violence was rare, and until the Inn had come for his people, he had seen death twice before that moment. After that, he had committed thousands of acts of violence on those who wished to be left alone, those who wished to worship those creatures that stalked the lands, and those who wanted to fight for their independence. Typically those cultures he had destroyed left some imprint on that of the Mountain Inn. Servants and slavery were outlawed. Instead, all house duties should be done by wives and such; this was to help improve population growth to rekindle some form of life on the planet after the wars that had raged upon its small surface frozen.
After his reunion with his father, the gene stock which had been dwindling was likely to stay dwindling as the radiation and warp energies that had been imbued within him made it hard for those who wished to become an Astartes of the first legion. It is not that the gene-seed was corrupted by chaos, but it did make the likely hood of death over fifty percent. Most initiates would die from their first treatment. Those who become warriors in the legion are typically from the southern lowlands where he was 'born and raised.
The legion was devastated; by reunion with his first sons, they were down to several thousand. A genetic defect that almost had the legion erased had made it to where the stock would at first create a perfect astartes with all organs available. Still, soon after, it would turn them into blubbery mutants, their mind staying intact as they watched themselves turn into an abomination. With the primarch in hand, the geneseed did flourish, but the ability to create and Astarte was hard. Few outsides of his homeworld were able to take the geneseed, but when it was applied successfully, it created that astartes with little genetic difference to their cousins but for a thicker hide and a light fur. There would be another defect, which would come in the geneseed, which in some cases would seek out its next host rather than the ones who completed trials.
These souls are called the Chosen and are typically seen with a bloody hand upon their face rather than their shoulder, as that is where the primarch can touch them in their medicae bed before their surgery. They are primarily souls that will become runepriests; they are typically psykers who wish to follow in their fathers' footsteps of rune crafting. They spend one full on their father's flagship before being sent back to the tribe (company) they came from.
Several years after he departed from his father, his legion had ten thousand soldiers ready. He began his conquest, looking for more lost souls along the fringes of the Imperium. Trying to bring them back into the fold of humanity, there would be a slow process as they wish to document everything, usually leaving a handful of Astartes behind to oversee the world's compliance. Their families would intermingle with the local population, forming another tribe from which the legion recruit from in the future.
There was one battle of significance that the Primarch had fought in. This was again an arthropod species that inhabited a lost human world; the humans were still alive but had primarily lived in small settlements that acted like watch posts for the only living hive upon the planet. The bugs were on one of their final assaults when the Astartes arrived. Ten days of constant fighting raged on as his legion and the army units tied to his fleet drove the bug creatures into caves, which the Astartes would then assault again. On the thirtieth day of fighting, the ground broke up to reveal the queen, and about between it and the primarch ensued. The skull of the Queen can still be seen in Icebrook Fortress upon his homeworld. Over several days, this fight was said to be the Astartes and primarch fighting the spawn which the queen was laying during the fight.
The Northern Lord sat at the feasting halls, looking over the different chieftains, their wives, warriors, and friends. He had been eating with them for more than two hours, conversing with those near him as his wives went around serving the different guests that had arrived. He was going to make sure they were all happy and sound. He had just conquered the last people on the Northmen and was thinking of journeying south to see those in the ocean once again.
Ahgnemir stood; he was going to give the final round of the night, his flagon held high above his head as something peered into his soul. The flagon soon fell to the table. Gasps, awe, and wails had filled the room as the giant man held his head and dropped to the ground in a spasm. Something was coming. He felt it surge through his head, and he screamed out as he clawed his way to his feet before leaving the room, heading to his chambers for solitude. Those he left in the room were on the floor now as an echo of his soul had screamed to each one of them. It was maddening; for a moment, they felt the pain he did, but it was gone within a second.
The five women close to him were crying; they had felt it the most as he is the second it took them, had felt everything. He had called out for their help in this, and they only fell themselves. They felt him locked inside their bed-chamber and felt his pain through the door and the city. For a week, this would continue; the guests became the caretakers to the five women outside the door to their husbands' rooms. Feeding them, and keeping them alive, listening to the murmurs and words from their lips. Wards and shrines had been placed around them to protect them. But the words still came, and they began to sound like the Northern Lords' works were coming from their lips.
On the fifth day and the end of the planetary week, he came out, and the women fell exhausted. He stared at those in awe of him.
"The gods are coming... Find me a cart... I will take them with me..."
An hour later, the five women were upon a cart being pushed down the streets. Behind him, those who had attended the feast, and behind them, a line of souls wandered behind them. Falling behind as the end of the precession has passed them or joining in on the flanks. Outside the entrance of the cave, a lone figure stood in gold. Ahgnemir stared at the figure and moved away from the cart towards the man. He knew this is where the voices in his head were coming from; he knew he was safe from then on. His hands extended out to either side of him, bowing was not in his culture, but embracing was. He would embrace his father; tears wept from his eyes and fell frozen upon the snow beneath them.
His father, the one he was taken from, was there for him. This was the god he had seen in his dreams and vision, the one he had asked for help and guidance. He felt this power around his neck in the ward he hung from it. He took a step back and stared at the man in front of him. He saw a face he had not seen in a long time, one that was similar to the one he wore as a child, a teen, and a young adult. But no, this face was not his; he wore this man's face. He was ashamed to have to let his face become so scared and destroyed at that moment. He had destroyed perfection, the perfect man. He turned and saw his first wife awaken.
"Father... My... Father, I am sorry I could not show you more grace and pageantry, but my people welcome you... That is my first wife, Boudica, the Warrior Queen of this world. We wish to welcome you and invite you to our home."
"First... Son..." The Emperor spoke, "turn, and face your sons."
Behind the Emperor stood ten giants, men in silver Mark II armor, that of the first legion, the Dawn-Breakers. His first sons of blood, he realized that he had a connection with these men too, the Emperor overshadowed it, but now that they had his attention, he too felt a connection with them. They are what he and his wives had always wanted, sons, powerful sons. The first captain, Ellion, took a step toward his grandfather and embraced him. Just like what he had done with the Emperor. The crowd silent. This was something unheard of to them; it was a sight that was amazing and almost indescribable. Godly, that was a good term to describe it, godly. They watched the gods that walked among them, meeting.
Ahgnemir embraced each of his sons and turned to his people and slowly awakening wives, "Feast yourselves... gorge your bodies of food, a new Era has come for us, and these are the messengers of progress! We will join them in the stars!"
Hours had passed, and the feast hall could not contain the number of people feasting in his home had expanded his capacity, so the regiments of soldiers that were with the emperor, as well as those of the first legion, were set up outside the cave entrances that lead under the mountain. The food stores were gone within hours, and more were coming in. The feast lasted an entire day, but the day after began the induction into the Imperium of Man.
He was brought aboard the Emperor's flagship, and samples were taken from him. These would improve the gene-seed stock of the legion and help create the next generation of the newly dubbed, Bloody Hands. A name forged from one of the ceremonial rituals, which had connected Ellion to Ahgnemir, where they cut open their palms and embraced each other, the handprint being placed upon the captain's shoulder pad over the old symbol, which still lingers upon Ellion's armor today, under the blood of his father. It can be seen inside the Warriors' chamber upon the flagship of the Legion, the Crimson Arm.
Soon enough after that, he and what was left of his legion were off with the Emperor to wage war on another planet in the system which was inhabited by drukhari raiders and the human slaves captured from his homeworld; he had never fought them or known about them in his time living on the planet.