We were called many things after that day. Betrayer. Traitor. Corrupted. HERETICS. These words were true of some of us, but not all. When the Accursed Horus began his heresy, we loyalists were left to die on the world of Istvan III. Most of our brothers perished in the virus bombs, their flesh and bone liquefied to putrid piles of sludge in the blink of an eye. Those that survived the holocaust of disease and miasma were shattered moments later when Horus’ flagship, the Vengeful Spirit, brought its forward las-cannons to bear on the planet’s atmosphere. Filled with the putrefied gases and bacteria from a billion corpses, the atmosphere ignited in an inferno that raged across the planet, scouring the surface of all bacterial life remaining and rendering the hollowed out cities to dust and debris. Our heretical brothers believed us exterminated. No life could have survived on the burned and blackened surface of that forsaken planet. But beneath the surface… First Captain and member of the Mournival, Garviel Loken, found us safe haven beneath the sirenhold in the Choral City. There we waited for the flames to die out, and when we emerged to the surface again, Horus and his fleet had departed. There were only a handful of us, no more than fifty Space Marines still standing from the thousands who had come to this scoured rock. But while we drew breath, we would fight for our Emperor. We would hold true to our oaths. We would become the Luna Wolves once more, and never again would we call ourselves the “Sons of Horus.” When we were rescued by Nathaniel Garro, he recruited Loken to start what would become the Inquisition. We were its first challenge, but we held true to our faith and duty and persevered. Now we fight for the God-Emperor in the Eye of Terror, seeking always to thwart the minions of Chaos and in particular, our fallen brothers, now known as the Black Legion. In respect to our heritage, the greatest of our Company Captains are members of the Mournival – a council who assists our Chapter Master in deciding the course of our travels and what worlds we will deliver our justice of bolter and chainsword. Our Chapter Master, though we have had many through the millennia, is known only as Lupercal, and his true name is listed on the Wall of the Dead. The elected must forsake his own name when he accepts the rank in remembrance of how easily personal pride and vanity caused our Primarch to fall. We are the Luna Wolves. We are the Emperor’s Spear. We will not forget. And we will never forgive.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Oct 2013 05:24:38 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015