+ inload: Perturabo, the Lord of Iron +

+ Perturabo, the Lord of Iron +

Tell them ruin has come to their world, death, despair and red war...

Tell them their hopes and pride have come to nothing.

Tell them their empty whispers fall upon deaf ears - their gods are dead, human logic has killed them.

Tell them the Angels of Death have come.

Tell them that nothing can save them now

+ The Lord of Iron brooks no dissent; courts no allies; and needs little introduction.... +

+ An interesting and enjoyable piece to work on, this Primarch figure was the culmination of a few months practising painting metal. In a previous inload [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+], I showed you the work in progress and talked through my thoughts on the scheme. I find it very useful to take a break halfway through and assess the paintwork, rather than crack on with it. It helps to put your finger on what is and isn't working. +

+ Adding darker non-metallic areas around the gold helps it to stand out. I used a mix of Charadon Granite and Abaddon Black to avoid pure black (which can look artificial), but kept these areas fairly neutral. Touches of silver ink were added for highlights (particularly on the studs), and a red glow has been added behind the Primarch's head, emanating from the Logos' hood. The other change is Forgebreaker. Initially painted silver and gold like the rest of the figure, I decided to repaint it using more black and white – this helps it stand out and become a focal area; creating a triangle of stronger contrasts along with his forward knee and face. +

+ Sepia ink was used to knock back the brass on the ammunition feeds, and Devlan Mud on the power generator area on his back. This gave it a slightly darker, dirtier look that differentiates it from the brighter silver of his armour. +

+ This shot shows Forgebreaker in more detail; and annoyingly it's now given me the urge to convert and paint a Ferrus Manus. I like the FW figure, but it's not how I picture the Xth Legion Primarch. + 

+ Stark contrasts of black and white, along with a brighter silver, mark the weapon as unassociated with Perturabo. It's worth noting that I've used a pure blue-white on the hammer; the brightest tone on the whole figure (even his eyes are a slightly cream hue). Perturabo may think himself justified in rebelling against the Emperor, but the true purity is obvious. Creating a character and drama through a paint scheme like this is fun and helps make the figure more understandable. In miniature sculpture, where the majority of figures are in martial poses, it's good to hint at something deeper. +

+ Of course, it helps when the background of the figure has sufficient depth and interest that you can make such value judgements. All the Primarchs are fairly monstrous in their world-views; but some, like the bitter Perturabo, are lined up as relatable monsters. You could argue he gets unfairly treated; but equally you could regard him as a psychopath justifying his atrocities. +

+ The sculpt is a lovely one. While I like the display base as a piece in itself, I'm not sure it works for Perturabo – his heavy solidity is at odds with his precarious position on the curved carapace of the downed Knight – and I think I'll hold on to it for another purpose. +

+ The detail on the sculpt is lovely, and he's a real reward to paint. Not much space for freehand, unfortunately, but if you want a centrepiece packed with detail to pick out, you could do much worse than this lovely figure. +

+ It wouldn't be right to end with a pic of him on his own, so here's a shot of him with a few of his troops. +

+ inload: Phalangite Ivanho +

+ Phalangite Ivanho +

+ The Iron Warriors' geneseed allowed for excellent integration with bionics and augmetics, on par with the Xth Legion. In concert with their experienced Apothecarion, this meant that more casualties were returned to the front lines more quickly than in other Legions. +

+ On the face of things, this should have proven a great advantage to the Imperium. In practice, it meant that a culture of brutal pressure and expectation built up around the wounded, forcing them back into warfare before they were truly recovered, dosed with immuno-suppressants and caked in anti-sepsis gels. In addition, while bionics and augments took readily, the flesh of the IVth Legion Astartes was not impervious to damage. Marginally less physically resilient than the Xth or XIVth Legions, Iron Warriors pushed back into the fight occasionally found themselves unable to keep up with their comrades, leading to a vicious circle of injury and too-swift return. Inevitably, this led to ill-feeling within Musters and Grand Companies. +

+ This rapid cycling of casualties back into the fight did have its advantages, particularly when scale of firepower was more important than quality. Phalangite Ivanho, pictured here, has been pushed back into the lines with a bulky temporary augmetic on his injured eye, preventing him from wearing a standard helm. Low-tech solutions like this were far from ideal, particularly in the rad- and gas-swamped battlegrounds of the Imperial Palace, but the Pitiless IVth were uncompromising. +

+ The lack of rest and repair is more obvious from this angle, as the damage to Ivanho's battleplate is shown. Cuts and rents in his breastplate, along with popped rivets in the reinforcement in his thigh armour, tell a grim story. +

+ The rest of his equipment appears standard; an unremarkable set of equipment for a standard line warrior. Soldiers like Ivanho were exceptional on their worlds of recruitment (Ivanho himself was drawn from a dusty satellite in the Dheneb system), but set against the stalwart Imperial Fists manning the walls, proved merely servicable. Casualties against the well dug-in Loyalist forces were horrendous. +

+ His muster markings are standard; though his boltgun is slightly unusual for this Grand Company. The Varn-pattern weapon was forged under license from the Forge World Umbra, and is near identical save for being constructed mainly from plastek. This renders it non-magnetic and requiring a carrying strap. +

+ Ivanho survived the Heresy, perishing in the Legion Wars nearly two centuries (Terran standard reckoning) later. His corpse was time-stamped after being found lashed to a standard lost by a Night Lords raiding party on Cadia. +

+ inload: Legion IV +

+ Updates on the Iron Warriors +

Meanwhile, during the Siege of Terra... 

+ A Leviathan Dreadnought is the only thing in the Legion that comes close to dwarfing this Primarch! +

+ So, 2016 is firmly with us; and here in the UK we're about to be plunged into the deep cold. Time to wrap up warm and get some building and painting done. So far in 2016, iron has been the theme. + 

+ As you can see, Perturabo himself is kicking along:

+ A lovely model, and one that's proving an interesting challenge. Metallics have always been a bit of a bane for me – hence my attempt to learn to paint them a bit more convincingly through building a bit of the IVth Legion. + 

+ The main problem I'm finding with the Primarch is balancing the grimy, desaturated aesthetic of the army with the striking qualities you want from a centrepiece. Almost inevitably Perturabo is going to end up as a focal point for the army, and so I need to make him striking. Using more of the accent colour (gold) is an obvious way to do this, but it's a warm colour; quite at odds with the cold palette which helps set the Iron Warriors as 'villains'. Using rich, warm gold, as on my Ultramarines...:

+ Warm colours are inviting and positive, cold colours more threatening and sinister. +

+ ...would not work, as large areas of gold would draw the eye away from the less intrusive cold areas, giving Perturabo entirely the wrong feel. Instead, I've mixed the gold with silver ink, which gives a fantastic sparkle and also neutralises the hue. +

+ The other big problem I've found is that the scheme doesn't allow for much differentiation between armour and weaponry; so after a few slightly awkward experiments, I've ended up using different tones to differentiate – using sepia (to knock back and tone down) on the brass ammunition belts to differentiate them from the decorative gold trim – and black wash on the wrist-mounted guns, again to make them stand out from the heraldic silver armour. Whether this ends up the approach in the final version is still up in the air, but it seems to be working. +

+ When stuck with colours decisions like this and you're not stuck with self-imposed palette restrictions, traditional heraldry offers solid advice. Boiling it down to bare essentials, heraldry regards gold/yellow and silver/white as metallics, and all the other heraldic hues – red, green, blue, black – as colours. You can put a colour on a metal, or a metal on a colour, but not a colour on a colour or a metal on a metal. It's worth noting that the Iron Warrior scheme includes yellow (gold) as an accent colour rather than as a secondary – which is black. That give a metal primary (silver/white armour) with colour secondary (black shoulder pads) and metal accents (gold/yellow trim). You'll notice that the colour sits between the metals. +

+ Looking at how I've painted Perturabo so far, I'm starting to think that I need colour barriers between metal areas:

+ Here, for example, the belt works well. It's metal (gold) between two areas of colour (black/Charadon granite): the loincloth and the soft ribbing of the abdomen. The kneepads and collar details, however, are metal on metal; so I think I need to add borders around them. This will make the model more striking. +

+ One area I am pleased with so far is the head. I've gone for a Darth Vader-style pallor, which I think fits the character of the bitter Lord of Iron. I'm glad I trimmed away some of the excess cabling round the cheeks and forehead, as I think it opens up the sculpt a little. Having such a bright, pale skintone also creates a strong contrast with the dark recesses of the Logos (Perturabo's specialist Terminator armour), drawing the eye on a figure that otherwise lacks a good focal point. +

+ I'll also be altering the paintscheme on Forgebreaker, the storied warhammer made by Ferrus Manus for Fulgrim; and later used in the fateful duel that saw the Xth Legion Primarch beheaded. Perturabo inherited it and adapted it – hence why the standard sculpt has a different look. I want to really emphasise that this isn't Perturabo's own hammer, and so have converted it to use the sculpt from the Ferrus Manus model (I had it spare from my Roboute Guilliman conversion). To further strengthen this idea, I'll be using a scheme more suited to the Iron Hands (or possibly the Emperor's Children, as it was made for Fulgrim) on the hammer – the gold and silver used here makes it look too much like its been made for Perturabo . +

+ Scale shot + 

+ As you can see, Perturabo is massive – he absolutely towers over his marines! +

+ Not a huge deal more to do on him, so I hope to have him finished fairly soon. +

+ inload: Phalangite Metricos +

+ Phalangite Metricos +

I have raised this Imperium not for a man, but for all mankind. In his vainglory, the Emperor must be felled; no different from any other tyrant we have toppled from a thousand perches on a thousand worlds. This is a solemn duty, and is to be approached as is any parricide; with detachment and cold duty. So will we demonstrate the power of the Imperium; greater than any man.

There is another task to be accomplished before that fell day. The capture of my brother. That duty is more to my liking; and more to be relished.+ attr. Perturabo +

+ Speak not of us, but glance, and move on. +
+ Creed of the Officia Monstrosa +

+++

+ As angels to the masses of humanity, so are the Primarchs to the Astartes. How could a Space Marine hope to subdue a Primarch? +

+ We are Legion. +

+ Serenity in conflict. +

+ We shall be the coins on the eyes of gods. +

+ inload: Thunder Warriors +

+ Bellator Tonitro: Baru Karanean +

The Astartes' face buckled like leather as he smiled; a far-away look in his eye. It was a peculiar expression for a Legionary. My only previous experience with the Legionaries had left me with the impression of rigid, unfeeling automata. The expression seemed oddly human; uncomfortably so, somehow. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, and motioned to the officer to continue.

'It was told later, that the Emperor's warriors struck like lightning; that their victory was as inevitable as the storm. It was told later that their name was mere metaphor. I was told this by one such as you; a hundred years after the last of their kind met their unkind end. That moemoae-caipan – my apologies; your word,' he coughed, and I realised as he continued that he was slightly embarrassed. Another expression that I had not – and would not – see on the other Legionaries I met. 'Apologies again; our word, of course, would be 'bard'. I have been on the frontiers too long, perhaps. I have not yet adjusted to Imperial Gothic.'

That much was clear. Even the words themselves seemed awkward for him to phrase; his tongue tripping heavily over the syllables.

To put him at his ease – reading that back, I find the concept oddly comic – I interrupted. He listened to my clarification, head tipped, then he continued, with an eyebrow raised quizzically and a smile on his voice. 'Is that right? I hadn't heard that term. 'Remembrancers', is it? Well, well. So no more poets or bards to sing our stories? Just Remembrancers to report.' I said nothing, unsure of what I could say. It didn't seem like a question to me. I was reminded, strangely, of my grandfather. His mind had wandered. His pauses had become attenuated. His gaze had grown misty.

As the silence stretched, I wondered just how old the Legionary was. That I was talking with him attested to his having lived through Unity. Had he been born before the rise of the Emperor? Could any Legionary be so old?

+++

'I was there, Remembrancer. I saw the Thunder Warriors, and I tell you that their name was nothing so abstract as simile. They rolled over my father's forces without breaking stride.'

'I found later that our ten thousand-strong caravan was not even a target. We were merely in their path.' He smiled again. I detected no sadness, no regret. Perhaps his Ascendance had scoured or altered his emotions. Perhaps it was simply because he could not connect with the child he had been.

'I was not yet of the Legion, so my memories are patchy. You might excuse a frightened child of omitting certain details. Nevertheless, I see you wish to know all you can of the... first forces.' 

I dutifully jotted down his notes on his impressions – huge ogres that emerged from the blackness; fire-lit and bloody-toothed. Great roars that shook his thin chest, and the booming weaponry that burst his eardrums and left him screaming noiselessly. He talked spottily of the stench of sweat and salt-dirt; outlining his primitive memories in the enlightened frame of our more modern ideas, pausing to answer my prompts on how his humours were balanced or the relevance of the astromantic signs.

+++

After the report was made, he paused again. His face grew dark. 'We never knew them as Thunder Warriors. That is a later label, added to put something strange and terrifying in a box. Just as you were once a recordist, or a journaller – and now you and your kin are all Remembrancers. It is the same'. He brought his hands up, the fingers together, then opened them in a motion like a blooming flower. 'The Great Crusade will do this, too. All the myriad languages that have flowered over Old Night will be recorded and put aside; replaced with Imperial Gothic. We will establish a single culture, a great Imperium across the stars. The Emperor, beloved-by-all, will rule over a humanity united.'

He seemed to sit straighter, the cot beneath him creaking at his animation.

'I bear witness to the Imperial Truth. I am an ambassador of what is to come. My kind will journey to the galaxy's edge to bring all humanity together.' His smile returned and he continued. 'We will learn everything. We will encompass the whole of human knowledge. Think of it! Every song, every story, every scientific or mathemagickal principle from a million worlds – at the hands of everyone. It will be a golden age.'

He paused, his eyes glittering.

'But I will not be part of it. The scythe does not share the bread.' Did I detect a note of frustration beneath the conviction? Before I could ask, he began to speak again.

'But part of this is the past. We must not forget what has happened. The Thunder Warriors were a brutal necessity. Let me tell you more of them...'

+ inload: Grubby Little Wars +

+ The Unification Wars +

Hesitantly, the rubricist coughed. His overseer looked over, lenses coiling as his vis-spectacles adjusted. His expression was irritable – more so than usual, the rubricist thought to himself, glumly.

'I have told you more than once not to disturb me,' began the overseer. He raised a finger to stop the rubricist interrupting, and continued. 'There is little in these archives as-is; and even less that requires me to hold your hand. Make the decision, rubricist.' With that, the overseer turned back to his own datascroll. The rubricist, clearly agitated, remained for a moment, until the overseer dismissed him more angrily.

As the rubricist travelled slowly back to his station deep in the under-cellars, his mind was turbulent. He wished he'd never thought to check the deleted remnants. Old files shunted here were – in principle, at least – unreadable, unusable; at least without skills unknown to the Adeptus Mechanicus in these benighted days. He drew his stool up to his writing desk and took a deep breath before striking the rune of ignition on the recovered dataengine. 

Lambent runeglow from the dusty slate gave his face an unhealthy and sinister under-lighting. These files were different. The encryption had prevented them being accessed; even by the machine spirits intended to destroy them. Like an airtight travel chest taken down in a shipwreck, the contents had lurked unmarked and unnoted for centuries. Perhaps longer.

The rubricist raised a finger, then hesitated. He bit his lip, then depressed the rune of resurrection. The files spooled. They were incomplete, patchy, but as he began to read, his mouth hung open as wide as his disbelieving eyes...

+ [transcript unclear] [spooling] +

It is the 30th Millennium. For more than twenty-five centuries, mankind has been bound in unceasing genocide, struggle and atrocity. Contact has long been lost with worlds beyond the solar system, and the so-called Dark Age of Technology is an irrelevant myth to the barbaric wretches that grub a living amongst the ruins of Terra. Humanity stands at the brink of creeping extinction.

Since time immemorial, cruel masters, inspirational madmen and monstrous warlords have arisen and burned the world and boiled away the oceans with forbidden arsenals of dirty atomic, biological and alchaemical agents. Each sends their ignorant armies marching across the haunted dustbowls that make up the hostile planet to victory and eventual defeat. Humanity battles for Terra's meaningless territory, meagre resources and thin glory, their lifeblood wetting the dead soil over and over again in forgotten battles.

Mars and Luna have looked away, wracked with their own civil wars, and the cradle world has slipped into irrelevance, a dusty and ruined jewel. Against this, a New Man arose. Long-hidden, he names himself the Master of Mankind. Leading his bio-engineered super-warriors – the dread Thunder Warriors – the warlord conquered one techno-barbarian tribe after another, until the cry was taken up that an Emperor had arisen; an Emperor of blood and steel – and hope.

Building and refining his nascent empire tirelessly, the Emperor's foes gather their strength against this new threat. The Thunder Warriors have been superceded by his new creation, the twenty Legiones Astartes. With this advanced army of elevated post-humans, clad in the finest armour and bearing the best weaponry the Emperor's scientists can craft, the Emperor intends to stare down the jealous eyes of Mars and Luna – and look beyond to the sea of stars itself.

His ambition is boundless, his conviction complete. His vision is as inspiring as it is terrifying – nothing less than casting back the shroud of Old Night and unifying humanity in a mighty galaxy-spanning Imperium.

Before he can strike for the stars, however, Terra must be pacified. Humanity will kneel before the Emperor – or it will be crushed. To be a man in such times is to dwell in terror and ignorance. It is to live in a time of great change; of terror, brotherhood, fear and one last hope. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim darkness of the far future there is only war. There is no peace amongst mankind, only a future of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
+ [terminax: file ends] [spooling] [Continue?]+

+++

+ First steps +

+ A happy new year to you all; hope you've had a great time and are looking forward to 2016. +

+ This is a new project sparked by GW's Betrayal at Calth (BaC) box. I've been building bigger marines for years now, and thought it'd be nice to use the cool models from BaC essentially 'as-is'. As is traditional, I toyed with lots of different Legions, but couldn't decide on one that stood out from the others. +

+ After a while, some ideas percolated. I'd always liked looking at the 'history' hinted at by the background, and I decided I'd look at the development of a Legion from the very beginning – right through from the first battles on Terra, through the Wars of Unification and onto the Great Crusade, where they would meet their Primarch. +

+ Still, that doesn't solve the problem of which Legion. I mulled this over, and then thought – hold on, there's two that have never been looked at. The histories of Legions II and XI are a mystery by the times of the Horus Heresy, but there are lots of little hints hidden away. I really like digging into these, and any history I make up won't be contradicted in the future. +

+ Anyway, enjoy your year. I hope you'll join me on the journey! +

+++

+ inload: A Sense of Dread +

+ Brother Traum +

+ Familiarity breeds contempt. So says the wisdom of the ages; and it is true – using a word too freely of often will rob it of the impact and potency it may once have had. Dreadnought – 'fear nothing'. The term might simply seem a label; a signifier divorced from the sign. In these dark days, when Talons rake their way across the Five Hundred worlds, a demigods clash in battle, we need the simply reassurance that there are fearless heroes that are ranged against the nightmare enemy. +

+ A word of obscure origin, deredeo is mostly held to translate as 'god of destruction'; with 'dere' being an archaic term for damage or harm. It is a fitting title for this heavy support class of Dreadnought. The Deredeo bristles with weaponry, commonly mounting one or two primary weapon banks along with its' torso-held defensive weapons. +

+ The Deredeo stands apart from other dreadnoughts, (such as the Castraferrum, Contemptor, Adjurator and Leviathan patterns) in that it has a distinctly inhuman profile, with its deep flared hull and lack of articulated upper limbs. This occasionally causes difficulty in acclimatising pilots, who must adapt to the limitations of the structure. This is, however, more than outweighed by the sheer amount of firepower the dreadnought can generate. +

+ Perhaps surprisingly, the pilot's motor functions previously used to control his arms and hands are not commonly slaved to the main armament, but to the torso-secondary bank – an adaptation brought in for nearly all Deredeo dreadnoughts since the earliest iteration. Psy-probes and neural inloadlinks reveal the pilot 'feels' himself in a foetal hunch, his arms and fists clenched protectively in front of his torso; rather than unnaturally displaced when slaved to the main battery. It has been demonstrated that the pilot's proprioceptive homonculus (which allow the neural-web to function as naturally as possible) adapts more quickly and completely to this layout. The main battery is instead directly aimed by the visual cortex and operated via an equivalence of the shoulder and back musculature – an idiosyncracy which gave rise to the informal nickname of 'shrugfire' or 'spinetwister' Dreadnoughts. +

+ Astartes are adaptable and resilient, both physically and psychologically; and those able to wrangle the Deredeo's unusual interface find great reward in the punishment that can mete out to the Emperor's (or Warmaster's) enemies. +

+ This example, Traum, was piloted by former Brother Terminus during the Calth Atrocity. A relative newcomer to the chassis, and barracked with a training corps, he was yet to be upgraded with the top-mounted aiolos missile system that changed the Deredeo from a powerful firebase to a murder machine. His Legion and heavy support designation markings are on his kneepads; at a convenient height for his supporting infantry. +

+ inload: My Armour is Contempt +

+ Brother Lazaron +

+ A native of Corinth, trained on Armatura, and a casualty of the Illyrican Gates War; the resurrected Lazaron – formerly known as Sergeant Iktios Raphanel – is an apt example of the strength the XIIIth Legion found in its broad recruitment base. +

The chequered shoulder honorific marks Raphanel as a veteran of the Trimundi Compliance.  

+ Dreadnought pilots are more than simple drivers. Linked via neural web and largely reliant on the life support systems of the dreadnought hull, the vehicle and Astartes pilot adopt a symbiotic existence. The Legions (and, earlier in the Great Crusade, Imperial Army regiments that utilised Dreadnoughts) had different relationships and philosophies regarding their pilots. Some regarded becoming a Dreadnought as an 'ascension' or 'communion'; a further move towards a superior state. For the Xth Legion (and to a lesser extent, the IVth and VIIth), becoming a Dreadnought was the logical next step in an Astartes' lifecycle; from baseline human to metahuman to post-human. +

+ Others, notably the Vth, VIth and XIth Legions, regarded the life-in-death existence of the pilots as various degrees of abominable; an affront to the dignity and essential humanity of the warrior, and only to be entered into in extremis. Most adopted a balanced – or wilfully blind – approach, keeping the pilots in a hibernating sus-an state in between conflicts. +

+ For the XIIIth, the pilot and Dreadnought were regarded as essentially separate entities. Pilots sus-an coffins were essentially lain to rest detached and honourably interred amongst the dusty racks and shelves of coffins in the Fields of Remembrance – permanent sephulcres of casualties on every major planet in Ultramar, as well as on major battleships. The Dreadnought shells were stored alongside the remainder of the vehicle pool. +

+ The fielding of the honoured dead required a little cognitive dissonance in Ultramarine philosophy to explain the ability of the dead Astartes to influence the living machines – a state that would otherwise conflict with the reductive Imperial Truth. +

+ In essence, the Ultramarines regarded the Dreadnought itself as the 'being' on the battlefield; a terrifying living machine, with the pilot psychologically relegated to a benign but unconscious influence that brought the heroic dead's tactical nous and knowledge to what would otherwise be a soulless abomination. It is for this reason that the Dreadnought is referred to by its 'hull name' – generally a modification of the first pilot's name – the hull name Telemechrus drawn from its founding pilot Telemacon, is a good example. Such double-think was often required to reconcile the Mechanicum's spiritual doctrines with the secular nature of the Emperor's Imperium. +

+ Occasionally the hull name is drawn from the heroic or classical Macraggian poetic traditions, Ultramarian cultural references, or from more diverse influences. The famed Contemptor Zarathustra, for example – believed to be one of the very first Dreadnoughts fielded by the XIIIth and still bearing the markings of the Ante-Guilliman era 'War-born' Legion – was reputedly named by Malcador the Sigilite himself. +

+ Armed – quite literally – with a standard Tactical Support armament of twin-linked heavy bolter and Sol-standard power fist with in-built combi-bolter, Lazaron has a reputation as a fierce and uncompromising warrior who nevertheless fights with a generous measure of self-control. Roughly a quarter of the dozen or so Dreadnought Talons associated with the 15th Chapter are specialists, while the remainder, including Lazaron's Talon, are designated Tactical support; as shown by the icon on his right kneeplate. + 

+ Tactical Support Talons are deployed alongside infantry to act as reliable bulwarks and bastions for the troopers they work alongside. In turn, the infantry prevent the Dreadnought being overwhelmed by enemy numbers. Generally, two or three of the Talon will be armed with heavy bolters and power fists, while the remainder have anti-tank weaponry – this varies by pilot preference and deployment pattern, and can vary hugely. +

+ Lazaron's hull is simple and practical, marked by additional armour plating and reinforced cabling around the core torso. Decoration is limited to gold trim on the knees and waist, along with bonding studs on the torso and head. Of note is the vox-amplifier set centrally on the chest. Warcries and bellows proved as useful in intimidating enemies and inspiring allies during the Great Crusade and Horus Heresy as they had throughout human history. +

+ conceptinload: History of the Horus Heresy I – Primarch name origins +

+ Primarch names+

+ This inload started as a reply to a forum post discussing the origins of the names of the Primarchs. I really enjoy etymology, and thought I'd write my thoughts down. +

+ I'll preface this by mentioning that this is all supposition and educated guesses; little more. I'd love to hear from you if you can point to another possible answer, or clear something up – please just leave a comment below. +

+ On Horus, Perturabo, and Magnus the Red +

+ The Latin word Perdurabo translates to 'I will endure to the end', stemming from the Latin word for vigour. Perhaps of relevance is that the English occultist Aleister Crowley took the 'magical name' Frater Perdurabo. This might, of course be a simple coincidence, but the name was used by Crowley as part of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. +

+ This is relevant not only because it has hints of 'magic' and 'evil' around it (the group was fairly famous and notorious in 1970s/80s Britain), but also that it had close ties in organisational style and terms with the Freemasons – including Lodges and ritual titles like 'Frater', 'Neophytes' and 'Adeptus'. +

+ Thirdly, the group had a lot of (then-fashionable) Egyptian stylings and references. Significantly, Crowley declared himself the prophet of a new age – that of the 'Aeon of Horus'... +

+ Quoting from the Wikipedia article (so take it with a grain of salt – though remember we are discussing toy soldiers here!) on Thelema, the religion Crowley developed:

In the religion of Thelema, it is believed that the history of humanity can be divided into a series of aeons, each of which was accompanied by its own forms of "magical and religious expression". The first of these was the Aeon of Isis, which Thelemites believed occurred during prehistory and which saw mankind worshipping a Great Goddess, symbolised by the ancient Egyptian deity Isis. In Thelemite beliefs, this was followed by the Aeon of Osiris, a period that took place in the classical and mediaeval centuries, when humanity worshipped a singular male god, symbolised by the Egyptian god Osiris, and was therefore dominated by patriarchal values. And finally the third aeon, the Aeon of Horus, which was controlled by the child god, symbolised by Horus. In this new aeon, Thelemites believe that humanity will enter a time of self-realization and self-actualization.

(My emphasis) +

+ While far from identical, the inspiration for a lot of the Realm of Chaos material can be seen; with the Aeon of Isis being the peaceful pre-Emperor warp, the Aeon of Osiris being the Emperor's rise, and Horus being (surprise!) Horus the Warmaster, are fairly striking. +

+ If there is a connection with the GW designers and writers having an interest in the occult, there are some other potential tentative links with the Order of the Golden Dawn (and the occult in general). As an example, one of the founders, William Robert Woodman, took the magical name Magna Est Veritas. Not a million miles away from Magnus, particularly when you consider the 'magical' undertones and the fact that any biography a GW writer might have had would have mentioned his membership of the Order of the Red Cross of Constantine. +

+ ...of course, this is starting to sound a little like I might need a tinfoil hat. My point is that the writers would have been in an environment that would likely have known about people like Crowley, and it might have influenced them, particularly when researching for the Realm of Chaos books. +

+++

+ On missing Primarchs +

+ No, not those missing Primarchs. I'm talking about the ones missing from Epic 1st. edition, where the Horus Heresy was first fleshed out from the fairly minor mention in the Realm of Chaos books. It's possible all the Primarch's names and Chapters/Legions (the two terms were pretty much interchangeable at this period – I'll use Legion throughout this inload) were thought up at the same time, but I think it more likely that the list was gradually expanded as it became necessary for a particular bit of colour text or background. +

+ As far as I'm aware, the order of appearance of the Primarchs is:
Horus who is introduced as the Warmaster of Chaos in the first Realm of Chaos title, Slaves to Darkness. Here he is noted as being: 

[...]inducted into a secret warrior's lodge, which proved to be little more than a coven. [...] It is clear that the Warmaster introduced a system of 'warrior lodges' into the five Legiones Astartes Chapters[...]the lodges revealed their true nature and showed themselves to be nothing less than Chaos covens. 

I've already explained my thinking behind Horus' name, though it should also be mentioned that it makes nice alliteration with 'heresy'! +

+ The following Legions (existing as Chapters since Rogue Trader) were also mentioned in this book: Blood Angels, Imperial Fists, Whitescars [sic.], World Eaters, Black Legion (though the earlier names of Luna Wolves and Sons of Horus are also mentioned) and Emperor's Children. +

+ The follow-up title, The Lost and the Damned, introduced the concept of the Primarchs (Horus was previously merely an Imperial Commander at the time), and mentions the following: Rogal Dorn, Sanguinius, Angron, Mortarion and Magnus the Red. A couple of these names look, to me at least, like they were created as puns based on the  existing names of the Legions mentioned earlier:

• Dorn is Irish Gaelic for Fist (Imperial Fists)
• Sanguis is Latin for Blood (Blood Angels)
• Mortem is Latin for Death (Death Guard)

+ Rogue Trader pre-dated the Realm of Chaos books, so I think it likely that the writers picked a couple of the existing Chapters mentioned there (Blood Angels and Crimson Fists) and used them as inspiration; twisting a few letters here and there. Rogal is more problematic, though if you twist it to 'Regal', you get 'Regal Fist', which is essentially the same as his Legion's name.

+ Similar linguistic twisting turns Sanguis and Mortem into Sanguinius and Mortarion; and 'Angry' into Angron (note the shared suffix with Mortarion). +

+ I have heard that Angron allegedly got his name from a temperamental chap called Ron who the writers knew from the pub – giving us 'Angry Ron'; who was immortalised as the leader of the Khornate Chapter/Legion. Though this may well be an urban myth, it's certainly possible! +

+ So we return to Magnus, who I've argued might have a more 'meaningful' name. He is described in the tome as exceptionally large and with red hair. Magnus is Latin for 'great', or 'big' so his name might simply stem from a quick joke – perhaps an in-joke or something more crude... based on the 'Thousand Sons'. I wouldn't like to speculate :) An alternative and interesting explanation for Magnus' name is that it is based on that of Magnus Maximus, a Roman commander who usurped the Western Roman Emperor's throne. There are some interesting parallels, not least in the religious/magical persecution and the general Roman historical aspect. It's clear from various allusions and mentions (such as the Edict of Nikea, almost certainly based on the historical First Council of Nicaea; and the two missing Legions, anecdotally based on the historical Roman Legions lost or redacted) that at least someone in GW at the time was interested in Roman history, so I wouldn't dismiss that explanation out of hand. +

+ The remaining Traitor Legions – Emperor's Children, Alpha Legion, Night Lords, Iron Warriors – all now appeared here simply as mentions along with banner artworks, with the exception of the Word Bearers. None of their Primarchs are named, as far as I can see. +

+ Epic and developing the Horus Heresy +

+ While the Primarchs, traitor legions and the idea for the Horus Heresy were all introduced in Realm of Chaos, the concepts were fairly loose. They were further developed in the game Adeptus Titanicus and its expansion Codex Titanicus and Epic: Space Marine. The loyalist Ultramarines and Salamanders (again, both extant and undeveloepd names from Rogue Trader) and the traitor Word Bearers were introduced here, along with the first mention of Roboute Guilliman of the Ultramarines. The Primarchs of the other two Legions introduced at this period were still unknown. +

+ As a name, Roboute Guilliman doesn't seem to have much connected with it. I believe there was a poet by the name of François Guillimann; I've heard an anecdote that there was a French monk by the name of Guilliman who wrote a tract on rules for being a monk... but little beyond that. If you'd like to speculate, please let me know in the comments. I would note that 'Ultramarine' is a corruption of 'Outre Mare' – French for 'across the sea' (I believe). This was a term used for the Crusaders, and also the root of the colour ultramarine blue. Their Primarch's name might be a reference to the French root, but that's purely a guess. +

+ As the only Primarch introduced here, it's possible that the writer – Jervis Johnson – took his inspiration from a new source entirely, perhaps explaining why the character has such a different and seemingly unrelated name. +

+ Brothers reunited: the full list +

+ The 2nd Edition of Warhammer 40,000 would give us the list of the Primarchs and Legions with which we're now familiar, so we now get the outstanding Legions – Iron Hands and Raven Guard – and the remaining Primarch names: Vulkan, Corvus Corax, Ferrus Manus, Alpharius, Lorgar, Perturabo, Fulgrim, Konrad Curze, Lion El'Jonson, Leman Russ, Jaghatai Khan. +

+ Who can say whether they were all thought up together way back during the writing of Realm of Chaos, or whether they were simply thought up and jotted down here? Whatever the answer, we can split them into groups:

1. Puns/translations of the Legion name: Ferrus Manus, Corvus Corax, Alpharius
2. Mangled literary, mythological or historical figures: Lionel Johnson, Vulkan, Jaghatai Khan, and Konrad Curze.
3. An existing character re-introduced as a Primarch: Leman Russ was an Imperial Commander in Rogue Trader.
4. Others: Fulgrim and Lorgar. 

+ To take these groups in turn: 

1_ The easiest group to work out; the new Legions get names that are simply derived from the Legion names introduced earlier – in much the same way as the earlier Sanguinius from Blood Angels etc. Ferrus Manus is Latin for 'Iron Hand'; Corvus corax is the scientific name for a common raven (hence again a Latin translation); and Alpharius is even more obviously derived from Alpha Legion. Perhaps the deadline was coming up! 

2_ The English poet Lionel Johnson, a contemporary and friend of Oscar Wilde, wrote a poem called The Dark Angel. (I have a vague recollection that the character turned up somewhere earlier than 40k 2nd as 'Lionel Gonson' – can anyone help?). This literary link, which seems fairly solid, may give some credence to Guilliman being named after the French poet; particularly since Jervis Johnson was also heavily involved in writing both Epic and 2nd edition 40k. The amphibian, salamanders, were said by Pliny to live in fire; a belief that was further disseminated by Saint Augustine. This association with fire probably inspired their Primarch's name, a simple tweak of Vulcan, the Roman god of fire. Chagatai Khan was a descendant of Ghenghis Khan; it needs little change in spelling to arrive at the Primarch. Finally in this group, Conrad Curze is almost certainly an allusion to Joseph Conrad, who wrote Heart of Darkness a novel which included the character of the madman Kurtz.

3_ Leman Russ. First appearing in Rogue Trader as an Imperial Commander, then becoming the Space Wolves' Commander in a later expansion, this name finally became that of the Space Wolves' Primarch. We can say that Rogue Trader had less gothic and Roman influences; and had a more generically sci-fi feel. Some names – like Pedro Cantor – are based on real people (Pete Cantor was a friend of the writers and contributor to the book), others on pop culture (the infamous Inquisitor Sherlock Obiwan Clouseau). Still others have no obvious source besides 'sounding sci-fi'. I suspect Leman Russ was one of these, though I'd be happy to be corrected.

4_ While Fulgrim sounds a bit like 'Fulgor' (Latin for 'bright'), and 'Lorgar' sounds as though it were meant to be associated with 'Lore' (to go with Word Bearer) those origins seem a bit tenuous. This theory is partially strengthened by their similarity in endings with each other; a little like Angron and Mortarion. Since I suspect they were created together, perhaps this link helps provide some limited evidence. Again, anyone have anything a bit more creative on the origins of those last two? +

+ So much has been lost, and forgotten...+

+ In conclusion, my suspicion is that the Primarch's names were a sign of the times in the Games Workshop studio – an odd mix of historical figures, cheesy puns, occultism, and in-jokes; all of which would have appealed to the creatives and their audience. After all, this was the period of 'serious heads', where music, politics and literature would have been deeply analysed and discussed – and mocked, in that very British way  +

+ Whatever the final answer, the discussion is interesting. I suspect ultimately that the Primarch's names are a combination of dashed-off, barely thought-through jokes to hit a deadline, with a great deal of well-researched, wide-ranging discussions based on the writers' broad and shared enthusiasm for historical, literary and oounter-cultural knowledge. A fitting tribute, then, to the fantastic creativity at the GW studio at the time. +

+ I hope you've enjoyed my thoughts on this. If you like this sort of post, I have some similar ramblings relating to the Primarch's homeworlds – let me know if you'd like to see that below, along with any corrections, additions or thoughts of your own on the Primarch's names. +

+ inload: Brother Letas, Apologist +

+ A bit of fun here – it was the Ultramarines' turn for the Bolter and Chainsword forum's March of the Legions project in November. This invites participants to create a single miniature from a particular Space Marine legion in a month. I was tempted to do a banner bearer, but I ended up deciding on doing something a bit more unusual and a bit more personal; so I've created an 'Apologist' – a little personal avatar for the army, based on my forum-name. I had a nod at the warning point I have on that forum (for changing my name a few years back), by adding a red helm – a pre-Heresy mark of censure. +


+++

'What could cause an Ultramarine to fall from favour? Did he forget to polish his boots, or just leave his ramrod out of his arse?'
+ Cromac Ord, XIIth Legion; Armaturan Theatre +

+ Infractions, mistakes and failure are met with different approaches in the Legions. Some practise punishment – in various degrees of corporal, psychological or spiritual vioence – while others, like the XIIIth Legion, enclose their Legionaries in a cage of their own devising – simply denying him that which he seeks most of all: honour. Bound by their own inherent discipline, an Ultramarine set apart from his good name endures something worse than any physical or mental trial – which, after all, they have been trained to overcome. +

+ To the legionaries of the XIIIth, to be red-marked is a spiritual statement; an eternal, ineradicable blot on their copybook. Nevertheless, to be an Ultramarine is to succeed, to strive for excellence. Thus, those censured few tend to fight twice as hard; knowing that only through excellence can his brethren forgive him and welcome him back into the legion proper. +

+ Whether he ever can forgive himself is another matter. The red helm of censure may be withdrawn from the Legionary. he may be reinducted to the ranks, and welcomed back by his comrades. But the Legionary will forever be marked by it. +

+ Brother Letas, Apologist of 190th Company +

+ Breacher squads, being the first into some of the most dangerous operations of all Legion warfare, can suffer horrendous casualties. To fight in one is an honour in itself; and thus competition for, and discipline within, the ranks of the Scutum-companies, is exemplary. Conversely, for those who are censured and forced to don the red helm, it offers the best chance of a redemptive demonstration of Ultramarian virtues – if, that is, the Legionary can convince his superiors to grant him the chance. +


+ This view shows the Breacher squad marking – a gladius within the inverted omega of the Legion – as well as the hooped segments of Mark II 'crusade' armour on the legs. His red helm of censure maintains his laurel wreath of victory – a personal honorific that invokes his past triumphs and hope for victory over this present dishonour. +


+ Amongst the fifteenth Chapter, the Praetors of Calth, there is a tradition dating back to the days of the War-Born of Terra. Those found to have erred were branded – sometimes literally – with the sobriquet 'Apologist' as a memorial of their disciplinary infractions. Armed with power-gladius, holstered sidearm and the iconic tower-shield of the Breacher squads, Brother Letas' breastplate has been scoured clean of honour markings and replaced with the mark of shame; making the machine-spirit of the plate complicit with the Legionary himself. +


+ The Legion symbol remains involiate. Even in disgrace with his brotherhood, Letas remains an Ultramarine. +

+ Thought for the day: Only in death does duty end. +