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The Dornian Heresy - IA: Salamanders (Under Development)


Aurelius Rex

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The Dornian Heresy project has examined the actions of 14 of the legions in the alternate timeline where it was Dorn who became the Arch-Betrayer rather than Warmaster Horus, and now my gaze turns to the fate of Vulkan and his Salamanders. I normally put these articles up more or less complete, but as the self-imposed deadline has already slipped, I thought it might be interesting to instead put the reasonably well drafted sections up as I go - serialising, if you like. That way I can get feedback as I go.

 

Bear in mind that I have a large amoung of the direction for the article already formalised, but not drafted into a semi-readable form... so while I am eager to get feedback, there may be some things that are fixed because they tie in with things I haven't yet posted, or that link to events covered in the broader Dornian Heresy. To that end I will be posting a list of the mentions to the Salamanders that have already been made in post 2.

 

Every new addition I will make a new post, as well as update the overall article here in post 1. The way these article have been going I have had to edit them down to stop the wordcount getting too much past 5-6 thousand words, so some stuff here might eventually disappear completely. But I think that it is generally all the better for such pruning, and finding a way of focussing the text down to the lean goodness at its heart.

 

Anyway, hope you enjoy this trial - as a former moderator here in Liber it is good to be posting under these circumstances again.

 

Regards,

Aurelius.

 

[Edit - Have included the newest bit highlighted in orange.]

 

+++

 

Index Astartes: Salamanders

 

The Dornian Heresy

 

Intro Paragraph

 

Origins

When the infant primarchs were stolen away from the Emperor by the Ruinous Powers and cast across the galaxy, each one landed on a world inhabited by one of the lost human colonies. Given the malign agency behind their journey, it is perhaps surprising that so few of the primarchs emerged from their incubation pods unscathed, and ready to rise to power, on their adopted planets. Sadly, such a gentle fate was not destined to befall Vulkan on his arrival upon Nocturne.

 

Always a turbulent and geologically unstable world, Nocturne was particularly active at the time of Vulkan’s arrival. Day and night were indistinguishable due to the choking ash thrown into the sky by the new volcanoes, and the only light came from freshly disgorged lava as it cooled from a white heat. It was into one of these lava fields that Vulkan’s pod landed. Where any lesser being would have been killed, Vulkan was able to escape to safety, although he was left bearing scars that even his genehanced physiology was unable to fully heal. The horrendous burns were extensive and bone-deep in places, and he was left in constant, unimaginable pain.

 

For three years he wandered the wilderness, the only living things he found were the enormous salamanders that lived around the summits of the volcanoes. In that time he rapidly grew to maturity, but was never able to truly shake off the terrible wounds he had suffered as an infant. Eventually his travels led him to a village, and to people who he recognised as like himself. Compelled by a strange fascination, he studied them from afar, fascinated by how they cared for one another in a way alien to the fiercely individualistic salamanders of the mountains, and was even able to learn the rudiments of their language.

 

Despite the innate connection he felt with the people, when he eventually entered the village his hideous and inadvertently fearsome appearance saw him treated with disgust and horror, as though he was a mutant or a xenos abomination. He tried to talk to the villagers, to allay their fears, but his charred vocal cords could only form sounds more akin to the roar of a wild beast than that of coherent speech. His increasingly desperate pleas were silenced as he was felled from behind by repeated hammer-blows swung by the village blacksmith, and when he awoke shortly after, he was shackled with heavy chains in the man’s forge. He was put to work at the bellows, and while he could have broken his bonds and escaped at any time, instead he stayed, drawn to see the society of which he craved to be a part, but from which he was so cruelly rejected.

 

Vulkan remained in the forge for a year, watching how the blacksmith crafted items of great artifice, and he might have stayed fettered longer had it not been for a raid by Eldar slavers. At the first sign of attack the villagers gathered their children and hid, but if any thought at all was given to Vulkan, it was as a sacrificial lamb that might distract the raiders from a more thorough search. However, when the villagers eventually emerged from hiding they found Vulkan standing proudly amidst scores of broken Eldar bodies. Without a word he dropped the bloodied blacksmith’s hammers he had used to such brutal effect, and pointedly wrenched off what remained of his restraints as though they had been made of wet paper.

 

Vulkan had hoped that by saving their lives he would be welcomed into their society, but in revealing his true, terrible potential it seemed that an even greater wedge had been driven between them. The superficial respect with which he was treated was brittle and edged with suspicion, as though he was an unstable explosive that had to be treated with extreme care. Even at the feast held in honour of his victory he could sense their fear. Despite all attempts to communicate with them, to explain that he was their protector and that he would not hurt them, it seemed that Vulkan was unable to wipe the image of his butchery from their minds.

 

With each passing month the population of the village dwindled as families left for other settlements across the wastes, until at last Vulkan bitterly accepted the inevitable, and headed out into the wilderness himself. For many decades Vulkan journeyed across Nocturne, from its mist-shrouded mountains to its storm-tossed shores and beyond. In that time the only places in which he did not set foot were the human settlements, even when he saw that the Eldar had returned to raid and plunder.

 

The coming of the Imperium to Nocturne did not go unnoticed by Vulkan, although he could not have guessed their reason for doing so. With practised ease Vulkan evaded the search parties through the broken terrain, but knew that he was being driven ever-upwards. There, at the very summit of Mount Deathfire, the truth of his lineage was finally revealed.

 

Colourpiece 1:

Vulkan brought up his other hand and probed beneath the layers of ash for a firm grip on the rock lip beneath. Through the clouds of loose dust he could just make out the purple armoured warrior standing over him on the outcrop above, doubtless waiting for him to slip, or poised ready to kick him off into the seething lava far below if he attempted to climb back up. With a sickening lurch Vulkan felt the whole outcrop shift, to give under his weight, and even as he pitched off into the abyss saw a sneer of triumph pass across the warrior’s bloodied face. Then, in a blur of burnished gold an armoured gauntlet closed around his flailing wrist, and the second warrior that had stalked him, the one in the shining armour, pulled him up and away from the ledge and led him to safety.

 

‘You should have let it fall,’ said the first, his voice dripping with disdain. ‘That pathetic wretch is no primarch.’

 

‘Look at the eyes, Fulgrim. Can you seriously doubt that this is the Primarch of the 18th Legion?’ said the other, breaking the seal on his golden helm to reveal a stern, noble face and a striking head of short-cropped, ash-white hair. ‘Greetings, my brother, my name is Rogal Dorn, and I have been sent to reunite you with your father, the Emperor of All Mankind.’

 

‘Bruh-ther?’ croaked Vulkan, dumbfounded.

 

All of his life Vulkan had yearned for the acceptance and kinship of his peers, and with the arrival of the Imperium it seemed that he was at last being granted his wish. Not only did he have a family – his father, the ruler of the galaxy and his brothers, the primarchs – but also a whole army of gene-sons awaiting his command in the form of the 18th Legion of the Astartes.

 

While all of the legions had good reason to celebrate the finding of their primarchs, the newly renamed Salamanders had particular cause. In his absence, their unnerving blood-red eyes had been taken as a sign of weakness in the gene-seed, and even a mark of the malefic by the superstitious. When Vulkan was at last found it became clear that these quirks were merely a part of his genetic legacy, such as the enhanced canine growth in the Russ line or Curze’s greatly enlarged pupils, but even this could not completely dispel the suspicion with which their appearance was beheld.

 

The Great Crusade

Upon returning with his legion from being presented to the Emperor on the nearby world of Gorthan-Liess, Vulkan surprised all by decreeing that their Fortress-Monastery would be built upon Nocturne’s moon of Prometheus rather than on his homeworld itself. Though he claimed that it was due to the dangerously unstable nature of the planet, it soon became clear that he felt nothing but contempt for the world that that had brought him such pain, and the people that had turned their back on him, despite how he fought and bled for them.

 

Even while the Fortress-Monastery was being constructed and Vulkan learned of the many facets of the Imperium and its enemies, the Salamanders were called to war. What was intended by Imperial strategists as a simple defence of a system threatened by an ork fleet turned into a thorough blooding, as the Salamanders, eager to show their capabilities, tracked the xenos raiders back to their spawning-worlds beyond the borders of Imperial space in the Cythrax cluster.

 

Over the course of that first protracted campaign Vulkan shaped his legion’s aggressive, straightforward fighting style. Operating so far from Imperial space stretched their supply lines, but decades spent in the volcanic wastes of Nocturne had turned Vulkan into a master of self-reliance. Though the more advanced weaponry still had its place, he taught the Salamanders the simple pleasures of fire, of using smoke to obscure their advance, and the destruction that could be wrought by a simple warhammer. Committed to waging total war, the Salamanders systematically exterminated every ork and purged their worlds with flame to ensure that they would never again be able to pose a threat to the Imperium.

 

Colourpiece 2:

From the bridge of the Blackened, Vulkan’s eyes flickered between the rapidly scrolling telemetry and the hololith displaying the ship they had so recently boarded. Slowly, almost languorously, the ork cruiser began to drop down the gravity well towards the planet far below. On Cythrax Kelon they had used bombardment cannon to pulverise the greenskin’s hives from orbit, but with stocks of the specialised munitions running low, a far more elegant solution had presented itself; to use the enemy’s own ships against them.

 

Vulkan’s face – his new face – itched unbearably where the fresh grafts were still knitting, and he forced himself not to scratch as the long minutes wore on. He noted the trajectory of the vessel begin to drift from its intended target – a welcome distraction - but remained sanguine. Such was the destructive potential of a burning mountain of metal moving at terminal velocity that a direct hit wasn’t required to obliterate the city. Even before the impact, Vulkan was devising strategies of how best to use the remaining ships of the former ork fleet. He wanted to see the world burn.

 

With the ork threat eliminated, the legion was ready to turn its attention to bringing the lost human colony worlds into the Imperium. However, such was their success in the Cythrax cluster that their services were requested for similar actions against xenos empires across the galaxy. Buoyed and flattered by such unfamiliar adulation, the Salamanders ventured once more beyond the borders of known space. From the initial boarding actions against orbiting warships through to tunnel-fighting in cave systems, bunkers and sewers beneath destroyed cities, the Salamanders brought death to the foes of humanity.

 

Sadly, never had the adage of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ been more accurate. Upon returning to the Imperium to attend the Emperor at Ullanor, it became clear to Vulkan that the bulk of humanity knew nothing of the sacrifices his legion had made to keep them safe. Even many of his brother primarchs seemed unaware, or downright dismissive of the Salamander’s achievements. Many boasted of the numbers of worlds brought into the Imperium and the multi-million strong parades of celebration held by grateful populations liberated from the tyranny of alien invaders, and yet there had been no cheering crowds waiting to thank them for all the potential invasions they had averted.

 

Colourpiece 3:

‘You’ve spoken of your extensive experience against the orks, “bruh-ther”,’ drawled Fulgrim venomously, ‘but if it’s as great as you claim then why didn’t father ask you help him against the hordes he defeated on this very planet? But then... you were never father’s favourite, were you?’ This evening of feasting alongside his brother-primarchs should have been a time of joy, but Vulkan found little of the camaraderie and fraternity he had expected. He pushed back the chair and left the table, only to find that Fulgrim was following him, and was not done with his taunts.

 

‘The instant our father detected my presence He diverted His fleet to Chemos to find me Himself. He did the same when He went personally to Prospero, Fenris, Caliban, Chogoris, Baal, Macragge, Nostramo, Deliverance, Colchis, Barbarus, Olympus, Medusa… he even stood beside Angron in battle the first time they met! But not you, Vulkan. Haven’t you ever wondered why our father sent Dorn and I to collect you rather than go Himself? Even from light-years away he could tell you were broken… not worth His time.’

 

Vulkan felt the urge to punch Fulgrim rise – to break that perfect nose all over again - but before he could do something he would regret, Rogal Dorn stepped between them and leaned in to whisper something to Fulgrim that even Vulkan’s superb hearing couldn’t catch. Later in the evening Vulkan asked his friend what he had said to cause the Primarch of the Emperor’s Children to storm off in such a rage, but the only response Dorn would ever give was to say ‘I told him the truth.’

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Previously published references to the Salamanders:

 

From the Overview.

 

The first to join the Imperial Fist fleet outside the Istvaan system were the Raven Guard and the increasingly insular and secretive marines of the Iron Hands. These were closely followed by the Salamanders, led by their burned, bitter primarch. Shortly after came the Emperor’s Children, fresh from extinguishing the xenos threat on the planet Laer. The events of that campaign had affected Fulgrim deeply, and on arrival he declared that his legion had achieved the pinnacle of the Emperor’s ‘Perfection’. The relish with which they embraced the chance to prove their superiority over other Astartes bordered on the unseemly.

 

Then, in precise, well-ordered formation, came Angron’s World Eaters.

 

+++

 

The Imperial Fists, Dark Angels, Salamanders and Iron Hands made planet-fall first. Their stated intention was to draw an ever-tightening ring of steel around Guilliman, so that the Raven Guard, World Eaters and Emperor's Children would be able to sweep in from orbit and land the crushing blow.

 

+++

 

In the greatest betrayal and military disaster the Legionnes Astartes had then faced, the Imperial Fists, Dark Angels, Iron Hands and Salamanders decimated the survivors of the planet-fall. It was only the timely intervention of the cruiser, Eisenstein, which had been commandeered by loyalists among the turncoat forces, which allowed even a small percentage of the ambushed legions to fight their way back into orbit, and escape.

 

+++

 

The Imperial Fists, Salamanders and Iron Hands headed to the Sol system to tighten their grip on Terra, while Luther and his Dark Angels went to rendezvous with their brothers under Lion El'Jonson on Caliban.

 

+++

 

This respite was short-lived, though, as within days the Arch-Betrayer, Dorn, arrived back from Istvaan in force, along with the Salamanders.

 

+++

 

They fought their way off the ship with cold fury, and after that the Phalanx, under the command of Sigismund, stayed in orbit just long enough to collect the remaining Imperial Fists. The coalition of traitors fractured, and then scattered, with the Blood Angels, Salamanders and White Scars commandeering whatever vessels they could to escape.

 

+++

 

Vulkan's nihilistic disillusionment with what he saw as the hypocrisy of the Imperium spread over the centuries to encompass his fellow traitors. He and his legion came to despise the petty excesses of the Chaos Gods and their servants, and made war with both the Imperium and their fellow traitors. Their attempted Burning of Skalathrax was only narrowly averted by a joint action of the newly rebuilt Emperor's Children and World Eaters, and this early success cemented bonds of brotherhood between them. Imperial cogniscii have proposed that the Salamanders have formally aligned themselves with an aspect of the Warp they call 'Malal', although what this means in practice is unclear. What is certain is that the Salamanders remain an unpredictable and dangerous foe.

 

+++

 

[iA: World Eaters]

 

Dorn had been corrupted by the Chaos Gods, and had taken the Imperial Fists, Iron Hands, Dark Angels, and Salamanders with him into damnation. Knowing the World Eater’s legendary idealism and loyalty to the Warmaster, Dorn had not even attempted to turn them to his cause. Instead, he opted to use them as a blood sacrifice to his Dark Masters, and to buy the Ultramarine’s neutrality in the coming war.

 

Wading through rivers of their own blood, the shattered remnants of the three loyal legions fought their way to evacuation. Angron’s martial code demanded that such a gross betrayal must not stand unchallenged, but even he knew there was nothing to be gained from suffering a glorious massacre. Their mission now became to warn the Emperor of Dorn's treachery. After dragging as many of their fallen brethren as they could onto the evacuation landers, they came under intense fire from heavy weaponry from Salamanders commanded by Vulkan, their hideously disfigured primarch. With shuttles and landers full of his brothers exploding around him, Angron took this final opportunity to save his legion, and to fulfil his personal code. He threw open the hatch and leapt out of the slowly rising vessel into the midst of the Salamanders.

 

The heavy weapons directed against the transports were silenced, and the few survivors of the three legions evacuated to safety. Angron’s ultimate fate is a matter of heated conjecture. The World Eaters and Emperor’s Children both assert that he met his end in combat with the turncoat Vulkan, while scurrilous black propaganda spouted by the Salamanders hint at a considerably less heroic end. Needless to say, ever since the Heresy the World Eaters have taken every opportunity to take the fight to the Salamanders. Any campaigns involving these two legions, such as the Battle of Skalathrax or the Cleansing of Gorthan-Liess, are bitterly contested in the extreme.

 

+++

Skalathrax

 

Their shared experiences on Istvaan brought the legions of the World Eaters and Emperor's Children together, and forged a strong bond of friendship between the two despite their philosophical differences. Just decades after the heresy, while both legions were still in the midst of rebuilding, they deployed together to defend the world of Skalathrax from the Salamanders. The traitors claimed that the incineration of Skalathrax would anoint it as their new daemon-world, but together the loyalists managed to avert this, and in doing so extracted a measure of vengeance for the Salamander's betrayal at Istvaan. The phrase 'Remember Skalathrax' became a rallying cry for a resurgent Imperium, one that echoed from the halls of the High Lords on mighty Terra to the darkest depths of the Eye of Terror.

 

+++

 

“For Angron and the Emperor!” is a common battlecry, although where World Eaters face traitors of the Salamanders Legion, “Remember Skalathrax!” is often used instead.

 

+++

 

[iA:EC]

 

Seven legions were called to Istvaan, with the Imperial Fists, Iron Hands, Salamanders and Dark Angels making planet-fall first to encircle, devastate and demoralise the defenders.

 

+++

 

For this reason they deigned to fight alongside other loyalist legions, first with the World Eaters, where they saved the planet of Skalathrax from the Salamanders, and eventually took their place in Abaddon’s massed Crusades.

 

+++

 

[iA: DA]

 

The Fate of Lord Cypher

As befits a figure so shrouded in mystery, the ultimate fate of Lord Cypher is suitably ambiguous. No-one has borne the title within the legion since just after the end of the Heresy, and legion records on the matter are sealed. Some claim that he was killed in battle – the most common rumour being that it was against the Salamanders - while others say that he simply cast aside the name for his own reasons and instead put his pistol-wielding skills to use in one of the legion’s Assault squads. As always, the most enduring theory is also the most outlandish. It postulates that he became consumed by the theory angrily proposed by Leman Russ at the Conclave of Nikaea that the Soul-binding process left the Emperor vulnerable to corruption by sorcery, and went about trying to bring this to fruition.

 

+++

 

The Dark Angels utilise every aspect of the Chaos pantheon, but far from being blind zealots, they are instead coldly analytical in their approach.

...

They have also attempted to educate the other Chaos Legions in aspects of their chosen paths, most notably in the case of the Space Wolves, but also the Raven Guard, who they tutored in the ways of Tzeentch after the loss of their mysterious progenitor. Other legions, such as the tortured Blood Angels and the self-loathing Salamanders, are less receptive to their insights, and are even openly hostile, for which they are all the poorer.

 

+++

 

[iA: IH]

 

While the Imperial Fists and the Salamanders continued on to Terra, the Iron Hands headed for Mars.

 

+++

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Just finished the intro and I'm very excited to see the rest of the article. The DH Vulkan to me seem to be a "Frankenstien" like character so far (the scarring, rejected by the villagers etc). Can't wait to see their view of Istvaan V and the Seige of Terra.
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First off, thanks for posting this. Your work has been excellent so far and I look forward to reading all of this. Got a couple things the inner editor in me wanted to point out. If this is the wrong place to post them, let me know.

 

Generally, I think you have a good start. The ideas are sound, there is not much to pick out plot wise, and i think you have a handle on where you wanted to begin. I hope you plan on avoiding going into too much detail about Vulkan's injuries. sometimes its better to let the readers imagination take over and fill in the blanks.

 

Now, I do have some technical comments, and i can either post them here or in a message. its up to you aurelius.

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Interesting approach, not what I was expecting from the Salamanders either. I'll be interested to see how Vulkan deals with the Dark Eldar in this universe. I'd second the point about not going too far into his injuries. There's not a lot a Primarch can't heal that won't kill him, so you're best off hand waving it.
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So far, so good. Like the slight tweaking, as always, on the circumstances surrounding the Primarch's development before taking over their legion. Further, while I agree in spirit with the comments about not delving too far into the injuries, a few key details - the "bone-deep" burns above, some aspect in an "aside" story from the Primarch's POV - can add immediacy to the extent of the injury without stealing too much from the reader's imagination.
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A very interesting twist on the whole how 'Vulkan became opressed' and ended up worshiping Malal scene. What I find even more interesting thought is how you have bought what for me is a good (but bland) chapter into an amazing new element.

 

So will Vulkan now be black and white :rolleyes:

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Considering that regular Verse Vulkan had onyx skin and devilish flaming orbs in his eye sockets, it's not too much of a stretch to imagine the local witch burning villagers might see Alt Verse Vulkan as some kind of inhuman monster.
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Considering that regular Verse Vulkan had onyx skin and devilish flaming orbs in his eye sockets, it's not too much of a stretch to imagine the local witch burning villagers might see Alt Verse Vulkan as some kind of inhuman monster.

 

Wade, all native humans on Nocturne possess onyx skin and glowing red eyes, it's a genetic reaction to the world's unique radiation, even Vulkan and his legion had it.

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Considering that regular Verse Vulkan had onyx skin and devilish flaming orbs in his eye sockets, it's not too much of a stretch to imagine the local witch burning villagers might see Alt Verse Vulkan as some kind of inhuman monster.

 

Wade, all native humans on Nocturne possess onyx skin and glowing red eyes, it's a genetic reaction to the world's unique radiation, even Vulkan and his legion had it.

 

It's actually the combination of Vulkan's genetics and Nocturne's radiation that causes that physical appearance. Vulkan has it, because he obviously has his own genetics, and his Legion have it, because they're made from his geneseed. The natives do not have his genetic material, so they don't share the appearance. They are, however, described as dark of skin. So they're black in the same sense as we in the real world might use that term, but not in the way that the Salamanders are.

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It has been very hectic at work for the last few days, but I'm aiming to get the next installment out this evening.

 

The blood-red eyes will be a feature of both Vulkan and his legion, but it will only be red in colour and not actually 'glow'. If they did actually emit light then they would render the marine effectively blind, as the eyes operate by detecting external light signals that you don't want to swamp with light from the 'detector' itself. It's why you can't see the moon (easily) during the day.

 

So I choose to read any references to them having burning red eyes as artistic license / hyperbole by the GW authors. :yes:

 

Regards,

Aurelius.

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i'm curious, since the people of nocturne live on a volcanic world, wouldn't pretty bad burns be inevitable in the upbringing of the human children?

 

which points to Vulkan just not being burned, but maybe even getting a whole new, inhuman shape because of his "accident".

 

i hope that made sense to anyone.

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Bad Burns is one thing, a 12 foot muscular giant with enough burnt flesh to make a chargill chicken look pale is another. im amazed the people of nocturn had the courage to shackle him in the first place.

 

He was jumped by the village blacksmith.

When you're a blacksmith you swing a big hammer all day.

 

When you swing a big hammer all day you get like crazy hard.

 

When you're crazy hard giants that wander into your village get blasted.

 

With your big hammer. Hard. Crazy hard.

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So I choose to read any references to them having burning red eyes as artistic license / hyperbole by the GW authors. :lol:

 

Regards,

Aurelius.

 

Considering how bloodshot eyes are often described in a similar manner, it's not that great of a stretch to call it hyperbole. As an alternative explanation, it's known that eyes better able to reflect light and therefore see better in the dark seem to glow with an inner light. Usually seen as a flash of eyes, and you've probably seen it with house cats. It's also not that much of a stretch to say the glowing red eyes is, at least in part, due to their augmented eyesight.

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Bad Burns is one thing, a 12 foot muscular giant with enough burnt flesh to make a chargill chicken look pale is another. im amazed the people of nocturn had the courage to shackle him in the first place.

 

He was jumped by the village blacksmith.

When you're a blacksmith you swing a big hammer all day.

 

When you swing a big hammer all day you get like crazy hard.

 

When you're crazy hard giants that wander into your village get blasted.

 

With your big hammer. Hard. Crazy hard.

 

 

But hes a Primarch, hammer or not no way a normal man could take him down.

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HM...can't say I like this type of fan-fiction.

 

Switching a characters personality or switching the gender is a big no in my book.

 

Because remember: the highly derivative fiction is, of course, sacrosanct. And it's not like GW has ever maintained any sense of consistency or reason in their own work...

 

Sorry, man, couldn't resist. :huh:

 

More seriously, though: why? I've always found it interesting when you tweak a few details at a key point in a story and let things cascade to vastly different conclusion. Switch where a Primarch lands, and he's a villain instead of a hero. Have a messenger get to a place on time, and instead of killing themselves, Romeo and Juliet live to a ripe old age and have many fat children. It's cause and effect -- tweak a detail, take a fork, see where it leads.

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For one it goes agaisnt the creator and character.

 

"What if's" can be interesting, but IMHO, tiem is better spent creating new characters and settings.

 

To each their own, but I think you're missing the point of what a good what-if is all about. Namely, if it's just a way to have a 'who'd win in a fight between Vulkan and Guilliman' question, I could care less. But in AR's world what he's doing is playing with the themes that underlie already established background. Characters, like people, aren't fundamentally X or Y unless one has a really simplistic view of the world. What AR's doing in his project is looking at what those characters would be like if they were still somewhat the same people in somewhat different circumstances, and it's interesting for me (and others) to read about what AR (as an audience member of the established canon) thinks about the characters - what parts of them are fundamentally never going to change, and what are dependent on circumstances, and so on.

 

So in response, firstly I'd say it's not a relevant criticism anyway to go against the creator, and secondly that he's exploring the characters, not going against them, precisely by moving them around and exploring what they might do.

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Bad Burns is one thing, a 12 foot muscular giant with enough burnt flesh to make a chargill chicken look pale is another. im amazed the people of nocturn had the courage to shackle him in the first place.

 

He was jumped by the village blacksmith.

When you're a blacksmith you swing a big hammer all day.

 

When you swing a big hammer all day you get like crazy hard.

 

When you're crazy hard giants that wander into your village get blasted.

 

With your big hammer. Hard. Crazy hard.

 

 

But hes a Primarch, hammer or not no way a normal man could take him down.

 

Did you not read what I typed. Blacksmith. Hard. Crazy hard. Big Hammer.

 

All joking aside primarch our no in that situation Vulkan just wanted to be with other people. He didn't know why, he didn't understand his need to be around humans. And he didn't know being smacked with a big hammer and chained up is not how people should treat guests. Vulkan just wanted some company and if being a prisoner was part of the deal then obviously he was okay with that at some point because he didn't kill the entire bunch.

 

Way to enjoy a joke by the way. Why does everyone have to take their fiction so seriously? Don't answer that, its rhetorical!

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