IT: The Highborn

[Conn Eremon]

INDEX TRAITORIS: THE HIGHBORN WARBAND

For several centuries of their own time, these relic warriors of a forgotten age of darkness have waited. The Imperium exiled them. The Imperium forgot them. The Imperium will remember, when they return to claim what is theirs by right, the right of conquerors over the conquered. Blood will flow, a sector will burn, a hero will fall, and the Highborn will have their revenge.

The Foundations of a Dynasty
O C C I D U N T P O V A L I I -- scrawled in blood on the walls of decks 12-13c, aboard the Tyrrhese

The Highborn did not leave the ranks of the Emperor’s Children easily, nor bloodlessly. Though the Emperor’s Children were not alone among the Legions of the Eye in fracturing apart, they were among the more resistant to such hemorrhaging. Achlectur Priamne, once Lord Commander but now simply, plainly Lord, refused to remain a part of his former Legion. However, he was made of far sterner stuff than those of weak will who had begun to doubt and regret their oaths to the dead Warmaster. Indeed, he was more than willing to remain allied to his former brothers in the persecution of such cowards. Eventually, there was little reason left to remain, to hold strong the oath of legion, the oath of father. The Lord and his Highborn were perhaps fortunate, in that they did not need to risk censure by leaving the domains of the Third and ignoring all calls to return by the ever-dwindling core of high command. Many was the would-be warband that arrogantly declared its independence, only to find itself unable to battle its way free. The Highborn were no less arrogant in their declaration, but fate or divine will conspired to assist in their departure: Abaddon had come to claim his birthright.

It was perhaps this coincidence of events that led to the Highborn’s first entanglement with the forming Black Legion. So much of what the upstart Warmaster envisioned was in keeping with the Highborn’s own needs. The drive, the purpose that held them together as the Warmaster That Failed rebelled against the Emperor was duplicated within the Black Legion. It was might, hard and cold, not the soft decadence the Emperor’s Children had begun to wallow in. It was more than a marriage of ideals to the Highborn, for though they would never recognize it as such, they were in need of the Warmaster’s help. To bind such a force together, to gather the disparate, the independent and the disillusioned, into a singular, cohesive Legion, required oaths to be sworn by both sides. In return for the Highborn donning the black of Abaddon’s own, the Black Legion pledged to support the Highborn in pursuit of vengeance, and the return of that which had been recently stolen from them: their flagship Tyrrhese.

This alliance benefited the Highborn greatly; however, their pride did not long allow them to remain under the command of another. Shortly after the fierce struggle with the Iron Warriors and the reclamation of their ship, the Highborn once more demanded independence. Removing themselves from the Black Legion proved more difficult than the Emperor’s Children, and in the end was only accomplished under the severe binding of the Highborn to the Warmaster’s cause in what was to be the 4th Black Crusade. To spread the forces of the Imperium thin, the Highborn were tasked with razing the Erinn Sector, deep within the Segmentum Pacificus. This Sector was the breadbasket for a small swathe of the Segmentum, and it was expected that the Imperium could ill-afford its corruption at the hands of the Great Enemy and would defend it accordingly.

To the misfortune of the citizens of the Erinn Sector, the wider Imperium apparently felt it was an acceptable loss in the face of another of Abaddon’s terrible wars. The Highborn had a near uncontested reign over the Erinn Sector that lasted decades longer than the Black Crusade itself. What planetary defenses that stood against the Highborn were readily overthrown by this elite force. Token battle-fleets of run-down vessels stalwartly resisted the warband, yet the ancient, powerful ships of the Highborn made short work. Their numbers prevented them from simply laying claim to the entire Sector, but they were a constant presence, like distant feudal kings sending raiding parties to claim the taxes of their vassal provinces. Many petitions were sent from the Erinn Sector, the planetary governors begging for support and relief. Attempts were made, outer systems bound by oath to come to their aid, ultimately fruitless. No concerted efforts were made for nearly two centuries. The resources the Imperium needed from Erinn were still exported in sufficient quantities, and those were the only numbers they cared to know.

The Highborn, already arrogant, had grown careless in their dominance over the Erinn Sector. Because of this, the resistance of the world of Tara against their demands of resources and slaves infuriated them greatly, and needed to be crushed. Both warships orbited this verdant world, and unleashed the entire warband upon its hilled plains. The Taran people were strong and full of defiance, refusing to surrender or give in the fight. The Highborn were mightier, and so the great stone keeps were sundered and the iron-bound mortals dispersed or slaughtered. However, the Imperium had finally responded. A Founding of Space Marine Chapters, seventh of its kind, had only recently been concluded. In response to the centuries-old pile of pleas for aid, one of the newborn Chapters had been tasked, accompanied by a Great Company of the Space Wolves Chapter that had, itself, decided to answer the call. These forces had entered Sector space scarcely before the Highborn had unleashed themselves upon Tara.

As the resistance upon Tara finally began to crumple beneath the heavy tread of the Highborn, finally Imperial retribution appeared in the night sky. The Highborn would stand firm, but were unprepared and outnumbered. When Achlectur Priumne, Lord of the Highborn, fell beneath the blade of the commander of this child Chapter, the Highborn were mortified, nearly overcome with shock that anyone could not only stand against them, but hurt them. The Highborn fled. Far from won on Tara, the Imperial forces would hound the Highborn across Sector space for many years before the warband would make the plunge back into the hell that is the Eye of Terror. The Highborn would be furious at this change to their destiny. They would stumble for a time, bereft of anchor and succor, until coming across the dead xenos world of Cel and claim it as their own. Cel had a revitalizing influence on the Highborn, who would once more seek out the Black Legion and other allies. They would keep themselves apprised of the Erinn Sector. They would know that the newborn Chapter would claim the planet of Tara as its own, and would begin calling itself the Emerald Tigers. They would follow the flickering numbers that would reveal everything about the Sector. Where its militant might lies, where its food is grown or raised, where its citadels stood strong and where the walls had grown weak. The Highborn would use this information, when the time came to exact revenge.

Noble Vengeance
“Hit them with the portside barrage, damn you! Do you want them to take this ship? Fire! Fire!” The Tyrrhese Shipmaster screams, pistol aimed at the head of the man at the monitor. Far below, gun batteries sit silent as two slave-tribes wage war.

Nearly seven hundred years after the Highborn had first been banished to the Eye of Terror, or late in the 41^st millennium to those who resided in realspace, finally the Highborn had what they needed. Their time with the Black Legion had earned them an alliance with the Eyes of Tivan, a warband filled with the enraged sons of the daemon Angron. Their ships were fully repaired and stocked with powerful munitions. Their slave-crews had grown immense in population, and had been trained for a dozen generations in the sole pursuit of war. Oaths of fealty had been made to dark powers, their demand the sacrifice of a Chapter’s worth of gene-seed. The time was now for the Erinn Sector to burn once more. For a handful of decades, the warbands prepared for their assault, as agents seeded insurrection and heresy across a number of worlds within the Sector.

When the Highborn reappeared in the Erinn Sector, the Eyes of Tivan alongside them, their forces were spread across a wide front. Soft targets were selected and attacked with abandon. Hive towers became tinder for global conflagrations. The crops and herds of a dozen agri-worlds spoiled and rotted at their corrupted touch. The warbands struck without warning, but quickly drew attention to them. As the Imperium recoiled, the Highborn, led personally by Lord Achsantre Aivas, conquered the feral world of Buoyan. As the Emerald Tigers reacted, their companies sent to assist beleaguered worlds, the Highborn unleashed Cel upon Buoyan. Ancient green woodlands became forests of spears of ice, the very oceans froze solid, and continental glaciers formed overnight. The immense surge of Warp sorcery and the cry of planet-death would scream through the void. Astropaths across the Sector would fall into fits of seizures, and even the Emerald Tigers lost their fair share of psyker-warriors. The Chapter would respond immediately. Chapter Master Cormac Airt would lead three full companies in assault of Buoyan, anticipating an early end to the conflict if the Highborn leader could be slain. However, he would only be leading them into a trap. The icy wastes of Buoyan obeyed the very whims of the Highborn, suddenly forming canyons or shattering mountains. Lord Aivas isolated their Chapter Master, and unleashed the venomous Warpkin upon him. The Emerald Tigers were isolated from each other, the shifting landscape too dangerous to fight upon, and were forced into retreat, dragging the limp form of their Chapter Master behind them.

The Chapter was suddenly thrust into a change in leadership, the fall of their Chapter Master being a terrible blow. The one who would rise to the occasion and command the Chapter, some Captain of the Emerald Tigers, was accomplished, masterful, but uninspired, and the Highborn would use this against the Chapter. Under this new leadership, the Chapter would hold the lines far along the edges of the Sector, preventing the Highborn and the Eyes of Tivan from spilling further into the Imperium’s unprotected worlds. The warbands’ efforts on the fringes were but a diversion, intended to get the majority of the Chapter’s forces off their home world of Tara. With much of the Chapter’s fleet scattered across the Sector, when the main force of the Highborn and Eyes of Tivan entered Taran space there was simply not enough to oppose them. With all target of all the Highborn rage buried beneath Taran soil and the Eyes of Tivan aching to meet their foe face to face, the warbands forsook orbital bombardments and instead released their warriors upon the surface of the world. The mortal populations remained as they were all those thousands of years ago, tribal and feudal, with little technological advancements. The warbands slaughtered the inconsequential armies of Tara’s clans, razing entire island-continents, their advance slowed only by the hosts of Chapter serfs.

No Chapter home world may be easily taken, and in conjunction with the formidable defenses surrounding the Chapter’s fortress-monastery the warbands found more than expected. In response to the rising state of rebelliousness, the Chapter had temporarily tripled recruitment rates in expectation of their forces being thinly spread. While the full force of a Chapter was deployed along the outskirts of the Sector, within the Taran fortress-monastery were three hundred more, ranging from fresh Scouts to newly promoted Battle-Brothers. Though young and inexperienced, they held against the besieging tide. Aiding them was the host of awakened Dreadnoughts, chief among those that had remained on Tara was Conn Eremon. Their ancient High King and greatest martial hero, it was the War Ender who had slain the first Lord of the Highborn, long ago in a different life. His presence upon the battlefield had a visible impact, the young Marines rallying behind him to equal exploit and the Highborn hungering to be the one to spill the blood of him who defied death. Even still, with all the forces arrayed against them the Emerald Tigers should not have been able to resist as long as they did. With the very fabric of reality tearing about them, unleashing daemonic cohorts upon Tara, their doom was certain. That they lasted as they did is a testament to the capabilities of their Chapter Master Cormac Airt. Though ravaged in mind and body by the attack on Buoyan, and heavily weakened still, it was he who led the defenses.

Even still, the battle weighed in the warbands’ favor. When Conn Eremon, the mighty hero who had ended a hundred wars, was shattered from his dreadnought chassis by the sword of the Red King, the mightier lord of the Eyes of Tivan, the death knell to the Emerald Tigers had sounded. Deep within the hallowed halls of their own fortress-monastery, the Emerald Tigers fought their last battle. In orbit, the warbands’ ships, nearly empty of its warrior crew, were far into the rituals that bring forth their daemon-fathers. The Highborn had planned this attack for centuries, and they were on the cusp of total victory. Perhaps it was the whims of the dark gods, or the terrible, uncaring nature of fate, that would see their plan crumble. The attack took too long, and Tara’s sons returned to her aid. The ritual on the Tyrrhese was interrupted, as the veteran First Company of the Emerald Tigers boarded her. The cultist crew, though aided by their magicks craft, could not resist such a foe. The Highborn flagship would shatter into two, as nuclear-grade demolition charges along the ship’s spine were detonated. Much of the First Company, including its Captain, had failed to remove themselves from the vessel before detonation.

The destruction of their flagship effectively ended their orbital supremacy, a blow to their assault plans that was felt immediately. With the lessening of orbital bombardments, and the welcome return of reinforcements, the Imperial Astartes rallied. Though the Taran invasion had breached their fortress-monastery’s inner walls, the Emerald Tigers began to push back. Pockets of resistance across the globe, so close to being snuffed, began to expand and connect. The Highborn let out screeches of rage at the turn of events, but still they pushed on. Even as their own numbers began to dwindle in pace with their enemy’s, there was yet hope for a pyrrhic victory. As ever, the galaxy despises hope, and that hope was crushed alongside the Red King, his body lying broken under several hundred tons of permacrete and adamantium wreckage. One of the greatest killers to have ever slain in the name of the Dark Gods, snuffed out. The Highborn sounded a retreat.

Though the assault and fighting retreat cost the paired warbands nearly half of their manpower, the cost they extolled upon the Imperium was far greater. An entire Sector was at war with itself, even without their immediate presence. A home world to a Chapter of Imperial Space Marines had burned; the temporary playground of the Ruinous Powers. Their greatest hero, murderer of the Highborn’s first lord, had been witnessed as a coward, clinging to a half-life he did not deserve, and so was forcibly taken from it. Their enemy had survived, but only barely. They would not survive the next time. First, the Highborn must recuperate. Their resources must be replenished. And the Warmaster wants them, for one last crusade . . .

Beliefs
“I can almost admire them, both of them, for their audacity and their initiative. Look, here, you can see it. This is the moment that the Campanians knew they were already dead. You can see it, as if their eyes suddenly dim and their arms are suddenly heavy.” Meleacr Amphare, prince of the vid-archives, stabs an armored finger at the flickering recording.

The Highborn have rejected their former Legion as it became, but they have never erased their devotion to what it once was. The Emperor’s Children were devoted to the path towards perfection, and they had proceeded further along that path than many of their cousin Legions. Corruption set in the Legion, during the times that the rightful Warmaster sought to depose the False Emperor. Soon, perfection became a state of sensation to experience, rather than a pursuit of an ideal. The Highborn were far from complicit, their own degeneration into devotion to Slaanesh self-evident. Like many of their brothers, a hunger for something more grew within them, but for them it was not a hunger that could simply be satiated by experiencing further extremes. This cold emptiness would gnaw within them, leading to a frustration and eventual, violent split from the Legion.

It was their arrival upon the world of Cel and the bleak scene set before them on that desolate planet that provided them, finally, with the means of satisfaction. There, they found perfection. It was there but for a moment, and in that moment bound. This put their eternity of hunger into startling clarity, and began the obsession that would hound them as any addiction of their brothers. Perfection could be attained. It was always there, just beyond reach, but you could grasp it for just a moment. The Highborn became obsessed with hunting down these moments, finding perfection in even the smallest of matters and desperately making all attempts to freeze them in time. The world of Cel would not just provide them with the focus of their obsession, but also the tool to achieve it.

Organization
“They may not have operated at my command at that time but they are mine. The Povalii are mine,” Lord Phersatunis growls the last out to the assembled lords of the Dodecadomi, his hands gripping the hilt of his blade tightly, as the fate of the Povalii for their transgressions is determined.

The 3rd Millennial that would become the Highborn had once been led by a Lord Commander, his command divided among a small handful of capable Captains. Much of this structure did not survive the passage of time. Though their former Lord Commander stood at the helm still in their earliest days, only Achsantre, future Lord of the Highborn, remained of those lesser officers. To say that the Highborn did away with the Company division would perhaps be inaccurate; there simply wasn’t one. The remaining squads of varying size formed the Dodecadomi, the council of twelve. Each noble Highborn leading a squad of his brothers would soon grow great in power and responsibility, lords over stretches of the earth of Cel and masters over ship-borne domains. The remaining Captain would be named the Lord’s Champion, his second in command, captain of the warband’s second ship, and his successor.

The Emperor’s Children had long ago mastered squad-based combat, and the Highborn have held onto much of those ancient Legion doctrines. The existence and use of their pair of ships means that the Highborn can, and often are, organized into two large organizational groupings. However, the persecution of war is almost entirely given over to each squad to determine for themselves. In battle, they retain an imperfect resemblance of the combat doctrines of the III Legion. Overlapping fields of fire, staggered marches, and complementary tactics. Each squad is filled with trained, elite veterans from those ancient days, the Highborn having taken in no recruits since the fall of Horus. Yet, their growing individuality, pride, and the changes made to the chain of command, has weakened the militant bond between the Dodecadomi. Coverage is missed and gaps in the line are formed. Rarely do these weaknesses prevent them from achieving their objectives, but against powerful, adaptive foes, they can readily set themselves up for failure. Such adversity reawakens within the Highborn that need for perfection in battle. An adaptive foe may hold them back once, but rarely twice.

Far outnumbering the Highborn is the slave-crew. These vassal mortals, descendants of the tens of thousands stolen from the Erinn Sector, appear unaffected by the warped passage of time within the Eye. In spite of the passage of millennia beyond the limits of the Eye, the Highborn have only experienced the passing of centuries. Yet their mortal crew seem only affected by the natural progression of time. Generations have lived and died within the space of a Highborn year. These great ships have witnessed the rise and fall of tribal civilizations within their iron shells, and wars of conquest waged between its decks. While these extreme variations in time-progression would be noticeable to an observant outsider, neither the slave societies nor the Highborn seem ill disposed by it. How the Highborn are able to effectively command their slave-crew, or how the voidborn tribes are capable of performing the tasks given before them would be a mystery. Yet when the Highborn order, the ships respond.

Home World
“His men are yours. His slaves are yours. His citadel is yours. Failure to keep and maintain them to my satisfaction will see you meet the same fate as he,” His Manifest Illustriousness announces Moghan Nuor of the Blades as heir to the domains and rank of the late Lord Phersatunis

If the Highborn had ever maintained a domain within the Imperium, in the age of the Emperor and their time as the 3rd Millennial, it was long lost to them and forgotten. For an age, their only homes were the Tyrrhese and the Trasena. Even while so many of their brothers would lose themselves to the power of extreme sensation upon the world of infinite pleasure claimed by their father the Highborn remained aloft. While they held claim over the Erinn Sector, with so many Imperial worlds relinquishing all authority to the warband in return for continued life in servitude, the Highborn stayed above their dirt and toil.

It was after their banishment from the Sector and journey through the Eye of Terror that this would change. On the outskirts of the Eye, sitting near opposite the Gate, a planet sat, frozen in the cold void. Like many of the worlds captured by the Warp’s embrace, it had once been a member of the dead Eldar kingdom. A prison world, in fact. As their kind tumbled closer and closer to damnation, still there were those who had somehow gone too far by their ever-fading morals. The birth of the Prince, their She Who Thirsts, put an end to this debased empire. Those imprisoned remained, frozen in time by that which was to be their cage and their gaoler as one. The stasis-prison, wrought into existence by Eldar magicks, had readily relented to the velvet touch of Slaanesh. Their forms remained, cold statues upon a featureless landscape, but their souls had long escaped imprisonment to be devoured by the newborn Chaos God.

Though long forgotten, nonetheless the Highborn could hear its name whispered to them from the cold mists, Cel. Whether this was the name of the prison or the warden, the Highborn did not know. Perhaps there was no difference. The icy wastes of Cel spoke to the Highborn. The statues of the dead, captured at the moment of species-death, in spite of their kin who struggle still, were objects of beauty. After ages of fruitless searches for perfection, finally the Highborn had come across a true example. A moment of perfection, forever bound in time. Many of the Highborn still bear the scars upon their faces, remnants of the frozen tears when they had so openly wept.

The slaves bound to their ships were forbidden to make planetfall. Those that had already come were sacrificed. The Highborn had come upon something exceptional, and it was to be theirs alone. Cel changed them greatly in such a short period of time. Soon, the words they spoke to each other were of some foreign tongue, the sound cold and raspy. They became the Celsclaran, the sons of Cel, and Cel accepted them as her children, the very landscape pliant to their touch. The hot blood that pumped through their hearts in time would give way to ice water. Though the Highborn would spend far greater time on their ships than they would anywhere else, Cel would forevermore be their home.

Battle Cry
A cold death to usurpers!



Original post is hidden:

Hidden Content

After the Emerald Tigers, the Eyes of Tivan and Highborn are my first DIYs, and were created specifically to provide antagonists to the Emerald Tigers. It took a long time before they became something with real depth, but I'm really pleased with how the Eyes of Tivan and the Antecruorian have turned out. Hopefully the Highborn will be similarly well-received.

Now, the Highborn started off extremely derivative. They were originally called the Winter Court, and were based on the Winter Court of the Dresden Files. Eventually, I had decided rename them to something a tad more unique, so they became the Hybernan, which came about by me literally just tossing 'winter' at Google Translate. Over time, I took the Hybernan (and the Summer Court's Aestivan) and messed about with it until I had the Highborn (and the Eyes of Tivan). For a few years, this was all there was, minus a color scheme, as below:

http://i.imgur.com/pablyaf.jpg

Like with both the Emerald Tigers and Eyes of Tivan, the only real expansion this Warband got was when I got access to Fantasy Flight Games' Rites of Battle, and came to the realization that its Chapter Creation rules was just fun. I eventually came across a fan's attempt to Chaosify those random tables, and utilized that to create the first real expansion of the Highborn character. Quoted below are the results of those rolls.

Highborn

A Warband fanatically dedicated to Slaanesh from the Emperor's Children Legion.

Extra Heretical Demeanor, willingly works with aliens, so long as they too worship Slaanesh.

Voice of Evil Mutation and Sanity is for the Weak Mental Flaw

Greatest hero is one of their Champions, remembered as a scourge of the Imperium who ravaged many planets and slaughtered many servants of the Emperor.

The world they've taken for their own is a dead world called Hyberna that had been utilized as a Prison Planet by the Imperium before being taken over by the Highborn.

Assault of Sharks Combat Doctrine and Biological Experiments special equipment

Warband is Slightly Overstrength and has a Remember the Ancestors Cult.

Allied with a specific Chaos Xenos species and targets Imperial Guard regiments specifically raised from Magniat.

+5 Agility and Toughness

That reference to Magniat is about 4 years old, by the way. That's the last time this notepad file had been modified. Hence my super-squee moment when Magniat ended up referenced by Forge World as part of the 30k Ultramar Realm.

So that provided the base, the framework around which I intend to build an Index Traitoris article. It's more than possible that none of that will remain in the finished article. The point of it is just to provide a base to build off of.

In addition to a randomly created framework to build off of, I also make a mad collection of random tidbits and themes that crop up as ideas I want to implement in the finished article. I use that as my focus, referencing it as I modify and build off of the above framework. Quoted below is the tiny little bit I have so far.

Warband uses variations on Etruscan versions of the names of Greek figures, particularly those found in the Iliad. The Squads are called the Dodecadomi. In their language, their home world is called Cel (pronounced “Kell”), and the name for themselves is the Celsclaran, Cel’s giant sons of war.

Focus upon cold and ice. Preternatural. Potentially sentient and/or daemonic Cel ice. Highborn are accepted, but Cel’s unknowable priorities or goals are not necessarily compatible with the that of the Highborn.

Their view of perfection is that it can only be measured in moments., which in themselves are not terribly difficult. Their obsessions lie in their attempts to counteract the fleeting nature of such moments, an exercise in futility and one of exasperation.

Warband began life as the 3^rd Millennial, and being the Third of the Third gets to their head. Often called by their mortal auxiliary forces the “Highborn.” Their Lord Commander during the Age of Darkness was Achlectur Priumne, who would become the first Chaos Lord of the later Highborn Warband. Slain in battle against the Emerald Tiger known as Conn Eremon, command fell to Achsantre Aivas, a former Captain.

Other notable members include Memnuthste the High-King and Achmenle Pakstruia. Original Lord Commander of the 3^rd Millennial, later interred into a relic Contemptor-chassis dreadnought, Memnuthste died for the final time during the Siege of Terra. Achmenle Pakstruia, on the other hand, would remain living as an invaluable asset to the Highborn, applying the mad sciences of Fabius Bile to keep the warband alive.

Has two ships: The Tyrrhese and the Trasena.

And this is what I will begin to use to create the Highborn article for this month's Liber Challenge (and the 20th Liber Experiment).

At the moment, the only thing else I have to provide is a small piece I had written for a previous Inspirational Friday over in the Chaos forum:

973.M30 The Tyrrhese, commissioned by Martian decree in conjunction with their fruitful alliance with the III Legion, is completed. The mighty war vessel is assigned to the Emperor’s Children Legion, 3rd Millennial. Lord Commander Achlectur Priumne makes the superior vessel his flagship. The mortal captain Karel Saeros is outraged at this treatment of the former flagship, Trasena.


014.M31 The Tyrrhese adds to the Warmaster’s terrible fleet as part of the rearguard, fighting a constant war in the outer system against Terran defenses and reinforcements. The 3rd Millennial makes a name for itself, rendering many enemy vessels frozen in the void after terrible boarding onslaughts. Tyrrhese beats Trasena in number of kills, though Trasena’s captain disputes many of them.


017.M31 Both Tyrrhese and Trasena are finally forced from the Imperium and into the Eye. In order to appease his great ship, Lord Commander Priumne unleashes exterminatus-grade ordinance on four Imperial worlds while in flight.


439.M32 Tensions reach a crescendo between the 3rd Millennial and what is left of the Emperor’s Children Legion. Achlectur Priumne releases his men from the Legion and relinquishes his title, becoming warlord of the Highborn. Trasena is captured by the Iron Warriors, and will remain with them for seventy more years.


291.M33 Tyrrhese pulls anchor over a frozen world emitting signals of xenos origin, millennia old. The Highborn are unable to contain themselves in their fervor to reach planetside. Tyrrhese remains in orbit for three years until contact is made once more with the Highborn. Fully staffed before, a bare third of the mortal crew survived. Though provisions were plenty, the few who had access were the first to fall victims to the power plays in the absence of the Highborn. Trasena had refused to ration to the Tyrrhese.


332.M33 The frozen citadels were constructed. Unreliable cartographical data gave the world the name Hyberna. Tyrrhese’s database lists it as Cel. The planet becomes the Highborn’s primary port of call. Trasena comes under the command of Achsantre Aivas, sole surviving former Captain of the long-dead 3rd Millennial. The flesh-infused command console is washed in hated flame, erasing what is left of Karel Saeros. The two ships’ depleting reservoirs are refilled with water from the world below.


541.M34 After bitterly waging war over the Erinn Sector since the early 200’s, the Emerald Tigers Chapter finally brings the Highborn to task. Chapter Master Conn Eremon slays Chaos Lord Achlectur Priumne. Achsantre Aivas takes command of the Highborn, transitioning to the Tyrrhese as the warband is forcibly removed from the Imperium once more.


325.M35 The Campanians, under the influences of umbrosia, assault the Povalii. War, once begun, would continue for sixteen months. Initiating a pogrom of extinction, many Povalii are massacred where the Campanians invaded. Rallying attacks and crippling espionage saw the Campanian front falter, and finally turn back upon itself. The Povalii are ultimately victorious, and the Campanian people are slain to ensure a lasting defeat. The loss of the Campanians left the guns on decks 12 to 13c silent in the next battle. The Highborn purge the Povalii from the Tyrrhese, forcing the remaining crew to spread itself thin before the next influx of slaves.

754.M37 Acting as a vassal warband to the Black Legion, the Highborn do their part in tying up elements of the Segmentum Obscurus’ immense warfleets. Though badly damaged during the attacks, the Legion lord that had gathered the forces of Chaos succeeded in his assault on the Segmentum Fortress, Tudrin. Imperial vessels did not have the Tyrrhese or Trasena in their records, and were classified as the Frigus and the Etrurian.


651.M38 Trasena opens fire on Tyrrhese, firing a macro-shell that strikes her undefended prow. Many upon Trasena’s bridge are executed for the error, but review of the machinery shows no firing command logged. Investigation on the macro-cannon deck revealed all slaves within long dead, frozen stiff under a thick sheen of grey ice, a common sight since the first touch of Cel. The cavernous room is cleared and more slaves brought in. Reparations to the Tyrrhese reveal potential lasting damage to the vessel’s ‘spine,’ but this knowledge is repressed for fear of punishment over the news.


865.M40 The vessels of the Highborn shed the sable colors once more, returning again to independence. The alliance proved exceptionally fruitful, as both Tyrrhese and Trasena are nearly fully armed, with plentiful ammunition, a state that they had not been in since they initially split ways with their former Legion.


921.M41 Allied with the Eyes of Tivan, the Highborn send a revenge-strike against the Erinn Sector and the Emerald Tigers Chapter. Attacking in full force, much of the isolated Pacificus Sector is brought low, the hated Chapter spread too thin to contain the forces of Chaos. The graceful vessels of the Highborn prove too elusive to the neutered Loyalist Astartes ships, and the brutish warship of the Eyes of Tivan proves adequate when the lines do meet.


948.M41 Tyrrhese and Trasena bombard the planet of Tara, home world to the Emerald Tigers, as the Eyes of Tivan and the Highborn massacre across its globe. Unexpectedly, a large contingent of their First Company arrives in-system, immediately boarding Tyrrhese. With many of the Highborn planetside, the Emerald Tiger veterans are able to wreak much havoc aboard the ancient vessel, though her war spirit did much to defend herself. Sabotage and heavy explosives nonetheless did their work, and 728 years after her first commission, the Tyrrhese is destroyed. With the Highborn’s greatest ship broken in two, and Brute Tyrke, Chaos Lord of the Eyes of Tivan, crumpled at the feet of an Emerald Tiger Contemptor, the forces of Chaos retreat. Trasena survives, now the sole vessel of the Highborn. The fate of Achsantre Aivas is unknown.


999.M41 The 13^th Black Crusade begins. A ship matching ancient records as the Etrurian is seen among the Black Legion’s great fleet.

And here is a member of the Highborn, as recreated in Space Marine:

http://i.imgur.com/p1GIrhV.jpg

[Conn Eremon]

Here's a current outline for the Highborn article:

 

 

Origins (The Foundations of a Dynasty)

 

• Disillusionment with & final fracturing from the Emperor’s Children in the midst of the Legion Wars within the Eye of Terror
• Possible entanglement with the Black Legion during its formative years, beginning an “on and off again” relationship with the Warmaster that would continue all the way up to the 13^th Black Crusade
• Near uncontested control over the Erinn Sector, eventually disrupted by the Emerald Tigers Chapter leading to banishment back into the Eye and the death of their founding Chaos Lord
• Reference planet within Erinn Sector as having relevance to the Highborn during the Great Crusade, seen in their eyes as a reclamation of an old holding
• Stumble upon the world of Cel, on the barren western fringes of the Eye of Terror
• Period of regaining strength, slaves and power by donning the black of Abaddon’s own
• Relationship crumbles, the Highborn return to independence, losing the support of the Black Legion in their revenge on the Emerald Tigers

 

Battle Sequence (Noble Vengeance)

 

• Assault on Erinn Sector and the Emerald Tigers Chapter home world of Tara
• Virtually same as that found in the Emerald Tigers IA and future edits to the Eyes of Tivan IT, but from the perspective of the Highborn

 

Beliefs

 

• Division with brother Emperor’s Children centers on a perceived abandonment over the pursuit of perfection in favor of the pursuit of sensation and experience
• The Highborn continue to pursue perfection, their obsession as evident as any other son of the silver serpent
• Perfection is measured in moments, and just as fleeting. Their obsession manifests in a need to capture these moments and hold on to them as long as possible
• Take a strong view on their own nobility, and see their claim over Cel and the Erinn Sector as rightful

 

Organization

 

• Reference the Dodecadomi, the regal squads of the Celsclaran, the Highborn name for themselves: the giant sons of Cel
• While based upon a Millennial, comprised of multiple companies, as a Warband they are organized more as an oversized company.
• Maintain extensive slave stock, primarily as crew for their pair of warships.
• These slave populations suffer a more natural time progression than their Astartes kings, in that generations will live and die in the span of a single decade for the Highborn
• Ships are immense city-states filled with rival, competitive and often warring tribal crew

 

Home World

 

• History of Cel, utilized as a prison world of the Eldar before the Fall
• The Eldar had manifested some magickry to confine and restrain Cel’s population
• The Fall and coming of Slaanesh corrupted this warden into something new, different, and potentially self-aware
• Only the Highborn have the rights to walk upon Cel’s surface, none of their mortal slaves have ever set foot.
• Has been known to entertain Chaos Marine guests, but reluctantly. Rarely do such encounters satisfy all involved.

 

Combat Doctrine

 

• Effective squad-based combat, an imperfect retaining of Legion doctrines
• Further attempts are made to hold onto former III Legion elements, such as the Palatine Blades. These attempts are either discarded over time or corrupted beyond recognition.

 

 

And here's a run-down of my though processes as I look over the randomly-rolled base of the Highborn:

 

A Warband fanatically dedicated to Slaanesh from the Emperor's Children Legion.

 

I've always known that the Highborn would be dedicated to Slaanesh, so I felt that the "fanatical devotion" part would be to the Emperor's Children Legion. Since part of their narrative that I had already in my head was that there would be a division between the Warband and the Chaos Legion, I decided that the devotion would be to the Imperial Legion. Its ideals and mannerisms, over what the Legion became.

 

Extra Heretical Demeanor, willingly works with aliens, so long as they too worship Slaanesh.

 

Not particularly interested in creating a Xenos-allied Warband here, so I instead put something on their home world that was xenos-born, but not particularly xenos, and Slaanesh-corrupted, but not necessarily worshipful.

 

Voice of Evil Mutation and Sanity is for the Weak Mental Flaw

 

To be honest, I am still not entirely sure I'll be doing anything with these mutations, or if I'll be making something new. I've always held that all Warbands suffer that second mental flaw in some form or another, by virtue of what and where they are, so the Highborn will be something.

 

Greatest hero is one of their Champions, remembered as a scourge of the Imperium who ravaged many planets and slaughtered many servants of the Emperor.

 

Fits in well with their already established lore of having a history in the Erinn Sector according to the Emerald Tigers IA. Wouldn't necessarily say that their Lord Commander at their time was their greatest hero, and he technically wasn't their Champion, but this is an integral moment in their history, when the Erinn Sector at the time was incapable of defending itself against them.

 

The world they've taken for their own is a dead world called Hyberna that had been utilized as a Prison Planet by the Imperium before being taken over by the Highborn.

 

Renamed the planet to Cel, and instead of it being an Imperial prison planet, it'll be an Eldar prison planet, as a connection to the xenos part above. I had considered the idea that their Great Crusade-era connection to the Erinn Sector would be a world turned into an Imperial prison planet, but having both would be a bit much.

 

Assault of Sharks Combat Doctrine and Biological Experiments special equipment

Assault of Sharks combat doctrine led me to focus on their pair of ships as integral to the Highborn identity, and the experiments thing I see as simply typical of an Emperor's Children warband, though I did create a character with some connection to Fabius Bile because of it.

 

Warband is Slightly Overstrength and has a Remember the Ancestors Cult.

 

 

 

Disregarding the overstrength bit, because I like what constantly going over to the Black Legion for support does for their character, and it's already been established that they'll not be alone for the primary event for which I created the Highborn. The second bit fits in well as is, with their fixation on the old Legion and their guiding desire for revenge against those who had once defeated them.

 

 

 

Allied with a specific Chaos Xenos species and targets Imperial Guard regiments specifically raised from Magniat.

 

 

 

The Chaos Xenos is now Cel, and there's nothing yet connecting the Highborn to Magniat. But, when I was trying to conceptualize how their obsession over "moments of perfection" would manifest itself, my mind played out a scene between the Highborn at war with an Imperial Guard regiment. I really loved that scene, and hope to write it out for this article at some point. Stands to reason that I'd use a Magniat regiment (Magniat is the home world of my DIY regiments) to play the part of the Guardsmen.

 

 

 

+5 Agility and Toughness

 

 

 

Will likely end up doing absolutely nothing with this, unless I find some way to incorporate it into a tale or their combat doctrine section.

 

 

===========================================================================================================

 

That's it for today. I'll begin fleshing out that outline, but of course I would greatly appreciate any and all feedback I can get, at any stage of development.

[paulJam]

+5 Agility and Toughness

Will likely end up doing absolutely nothing with this, unless I find some way to incorporate it into a tale or their combat doctrine section.

amusing.

 

it's nice that you've included your thought processes for incorporating the random elements, including the rejected bits.

will be interesting to see how the highborn develop further in light of these random aspects.

[Conn Eremon]

I don't have a real update right now, I haven't really worked on this since my last one. But I did scour my files in search of a piece I had already written on the Highborn. It was written just before I had switched their naming mechanism to be Etruscan variations of ancient Greek heroes, so the name you see is still of Irish theme. Back when I had first created the Highborn as opponents of the Emerald Tigers, I had seen them as being thematically tied to Mogh Nuadat, an Irish historical figure who opposed (drumroll) Conn of the Hundred Battles and forced him to split the Emerald Isle between them. The Eyes of Tivan were supposed to be the Spanish Celts that supported Mogh Nuadat in his return to the island. Since then, I've moved away from making all three DIYs tied to the same theme, and given the warbands their own, with the Emerald Tigers retaining the Irish theme.

 

But I think I'll keep the names as you see here. Add a little variety, considering not all of the Highborn were recruited from the same cultural center. Plus, adds a little bit of a power play. I have named Achlectur and Achsantre as lords of the Highborn. Who, then, is this one, who can so speak for the warband?

 

 

An audible crack followed the legionnaires’ steps. Not upon the heavy impact of their armored tread upon the thick ice, but as each Marine lifted their ceramite boots. The cold welcomed them, and the ice stretched to embrace them. Even the momentary contact that accompanied each stride was just long enough for the frost to begin to encrust. So the Marines, their wildly colored armor clashing violently with the environment, stepped lightly as they ran, like dancers pirouetting about in a maddened rush. One legionnaire stumbled as the ice cracked underfoot, catching him about the ankle. The delay was costly, as the freeze rushed up nearly to his knee. The helmet grill let loose a static-ridden growl as the trapped Marine gave a quick jerk to clear his leg. The ice shattered with ease, leaving nothing but a blue-tinged stump just below the knee. With a cry of rage rather than pain, the Marine collapsed upon the ice. He thrashed, his curses filling the cutting wind. Then he was still, and within seconds, just an icy hill that gave no evidence of the soul buried alive.

 

The scenario had played out before, when the cold world suddenly rose up in revolt of their presence. Some turned their sonic weaponry upon the landscape, blasting the ice. None aimed their guns overhead when ice stretched over them. They had all seen that falling shards of ice was a surer path to death than simple delay. One of them, mutated more than his brothers, glowed with a literal internal flame as he forced his body to burn hotter. It aided him little, a lead of mere seconds. The Marines pounded their way into the clearing where their planetary transports waited. Two were aloft, hovering meters off the ground. Below, the third’s outline could be just barely discerned under a heavy layer of ice. One of the gunships flared its engines as it turned about at the squad’s approach. A deep, resonating crack echoed across the small valley, and a geyser of liquid burst free. The ship veered to the side to avoid the jet, but it passed through a sheet of mist that solidified upon contact with the hull. Its engines coughed black smoke and the plane dipped sidewise as a frozen wing pulled it down. Another geyser erupted, freezing back into ice as it rose, spearing the falling gunship through and halting its momentum. Immediately, the other gunship rose and fired its engines, leaving the Marines to their fates.

 

Clicks sounded from the still running legionnaires as they attempted to hail their brothers in orbit. The ice shivered around them and began to recede, leaving them stranded upon the cold, hard earth beneath. As the survivors turned their backs to each other and scan their surroundings for threats, they were suddenly no longer alone. Another Marine stood scant meters from them, appearing as if he had passed into existence from the cliff of ice that his light blue and gray hues faded into so elegantly.

 

One of the Emperor’s Children pulled off his helm and tossed it to the ground in anger as he shouted at the apparition.

 

“Why Moghan Nuor? We came under pledge of brotherhood! You would deny the Warmaster? You would deny our father?”

 

“No, no. I would never deny either of them. My brothers and I will join their cause with all haste.” As the arrival spoke, his blue lips cracking as they stretched, he cast his vein-popped eyes behind him at the cliff face, and caressed it with the hand of a lover. “I have done this because I am offended.”

 

“At what, Highborn?” The sergeant spat the last word out, disgust and fury plain upon his features.

 

Moghan Nuor’s hand penetrated into the ice without resistance. When he pulled it free, it gripped a blade of ice that appeared as if carved by a master of the craft, its design reminiscent of a weapon once provided to III legionnaires as marks of honor to those most skilled. “They didn’t come to ask me themselves.”

[Conn Eremon]

Okay, I lied, I do have something. Decided to do a burst of writing. I normally wouldn't post this in the state that it is, but since I'm trying to use this article as an example for the last of the Liber's experiments, I'll go on ahead and put it up.

 

I have expanded on the Origins, Organization & Home World of the Highborn. The Origins really needs some work. It's not done yet, and yet it's already too big. I know I am going to need to edit it down extensively. What I am thinking I will do is continue as I am now. Just put everything down. Then look back at my outline and my notes, and start hacking away at it to better suit what I really need or want to show. Get rid of all the excess.

 

But, it'd also be helpful to hear from everyone else. What works, what doesn't, what can be removed, what is too much, so on and so forth. Anywho, here it is.

 

 

Origins (The Foundations of a Dynasty)

 

The Highborn did not leave the ranks of the Emperor’s Children easily, nor bloodlessly. Though the Emperor’s Children were not alone among the Legions of the Eye in fracturing apart, they were among the more resistant to such hemorrhaging. Achlectur Priamne, once Lord Commander but now simply, plainly Lord, refused to remain a part of his former Legion. However, he was made of far sterner stuff than those of weak will who had begun to doubt and regret their oaths to the dead Warmaster. Indeed, he was more than willing to remain allied to his former brothers in the persecution of such cowards. Eventually, there was little reason left to remain, to hold strong the oath of legion, the oath of father. The Lord and his Highborn were perhaps fortunate, in that they did not need to risk censure by leaving the domains of the Third and ignoring all calls to return by the ever-dwindling core of high command. Many was the would-be warband that arrogantly declared its independence, only to find itself unable to battle its way free. The Highborn were no less arrogant in their declaration, but fate or divine will conspired to assist in their departure: Abaddon had come to claim his birthright.

 

It was perhaps this coincidence of events that led to the Highborn’s first entanglement with the forming Black Legion. So much of what the upstart Warmaster envisioned was in keeping with the Highborn’s own needs. The drive, the purpose that held them together as the Warmaster That Failed rebelled against the Emperor was duplicated within the Black Legion. It was might, hard and cold, not the soft decadence the Emperor’s Children had begun to wallow in. It was more than a marriage of ideals to the Highborn, for though they would never recognize it as such, they were in need of the Warmaster’s help. To bind such a force together, to gather the disparate, the independent and the disillusioned, into a singular, cohesive Legion, required oaths to be sworn by both sides. In return for the Highborn donning the black of Abaddon’s own, the Black Legion pledged to support the Highborn in pursuit of vengeance, and the return of that which had been recently stolen from them: their flagship Tyrrhese.

 

This alliance benefited the Highborn greatly; however, their pride did not long allow them to remain under the command of another. Shortly after the fierce struggle with the Iron Warriors and the reclamation of their ship, the Highborn once more demanded independence. Removing themselves from the Black Legion proved more difficult than the Emperor’s Children, and in the end was only accomplished under the severe binding of the Highborn to the Warmaster’s cause in what was to be the 4th Black Crusade. To spread the forces of the Imperium thin, the Highborn were tasked with razing the Erinn Sector, deep within the Segmentum Pacificus. This Sector was the breadbasket for a small swathe of the Segmentum, and it was expected that the Imperium could ill-afford its corruption at the hands of the Great Enemy and would defend it accordingly.

 

To the misfortune of the citizens of the Erinn Sector, the wider Imperium apparently felt it was an acceptable loss in the face of another of Abaddon’s terrible wars. The Highborn had a near uncontested reign over the Erinn Sector that lasted decades longer than the Black Crusade itself. What planetary defenses that stood against the Highborn were readily overthrown by this elite force. Token battle-fleets of run-down vessels stalwartly resisted the warband, yet the ancient, powerful ships of the Highborn made short work. Their numbers prevented them from simply laying claim to the entire Sector, but they were a constant presence, like distant feudal kings sending raiding parties to claim the taxes of their vassal provinces. Many petitions were sent from the Erinn Sector, the planetary governors begging for support and relief. Attempts were made, outer systems bound by oath to come to their aid, ultimately fruitless. No concerted efforts were made for nearly two centuries. The resources the Imperium needed from Erinn were still exported in sufficient quantities, and those were the only numbers they cared to know.

 

The Highborn, already arrogant, had grown careless in their dominance over the Erinn Sector. Because of this, the resistance of the world of Tara against their demands of resources and slaves infuriated them greatly, and needed to be crushed. Both warships orbited this verdant world, and unleashed the entire warband upon its hilled plains. The Taran people were strong and full of defiance, refusing to surrender or give in the fight. The Highborn were mightier, and so the great stone keeps were sundered and the iron-bound mortals dispersed or slaughtered. However, the Imperium had finally responded. A Founding of Space Marine Chapters, seventh of its kind, had only recently been concluded. In response to the centuries-old pile of pleas for aid, one of the newborn Chapters had been tasked, accompanied by a Great Company of the Space Wolves that had itself decided to answer the call. These forces had entered Sector space scarcely before the Highborn had unleashed themselves upon Tara.

 

 

 

•   Disillusionment with & final fracturing from the Emperor’s Children in the midst of the Legion Wars within the Eye of Terror

•   Possible entanglement with the Black Legion during its formative years, beginning an “on and off again” relationship with the Warmaster that would continue all the way up to the 13^th Black Crusade

•   Near uncontested control over the Erinn Sector, eventually disrupted by the Emerald Tigers Chapter leading to banishment back into the Eye and the death of their founding Chaos Lord

•   Reference planet within Erinn Sector as having relevance to the Highborn during the Great Crusade, seen in their eyes as a reclamation of an old holding

•   Stumble upon the world of Cel, on the barren western fringes of the Eye of Terror

•   Period of regaining strength, slaves and power by donning the black of Abaddon’s own

•   Relationship crumbles, the Highborn return to independence, losing the support of the Black Legion in their revenge on the Emerald Tigers

 

Battle Sequence (Noble Vengeance)

 

•   Assault on Erinn Sector and the Emerald Tigers Chapter home world of Tara

•   Virtually same as that found in the Emerald Tigers IA and future edits to the Eyes of Tivan IT, but from the perspective of the Highborn

 

Beliefs

 

•   Division with brother Emperor’s Children centers on a perceived abandonment over the pursuit of perfection in favor of the pursuit of sensation and experience

•   The Highborn continue to pursue perfection, their obsession as evident as any other son of the silver serpent

•   Perfection is measured in moments, and just as fleeting. Their obsession manifests in a need to capture these moments and hold on to them as long as possible

•   Take a strong view on their own nobility, and see their claim over Cel and the Erinn Sector as rightful

 

Organization

 

The 3rd Millennial that would become the Highborn had once been led by a Lord Commander, his command divided among a small handful of capable Captains. Much of this structure did not survive the passage of time. Though their former Lord Commander stood at the helm still in their earliest days, only Achsantre, future Lord of the Highborn, remained of those lesser officers. The Highborn instead did away with the Company division, organizing the remaining squads of varying size into the Dodecadomi, the council of twelve. The remaining Captain would be named the Lord’s Champion, his second in command, captain of the warband’s second ship, and his successor.

 

Far outnumbering the Highborn is the slave-crew. These vassal mortals, descendants of thousands stolen from the Erinn Sector, appear unaffected by the warped passage of time within the Eye. In spite of the passage of millennia beyond the limits of the Eye, the Highborn have only experienced the passing of centuries. Yet their mortal crew seem only affected by the natural progression of time. Generations have lived and died within the space of a Highborn year. These great ships have witnessed the rise and fall of tribal civilizations within their iron shells, and wars of conquest waged between its decks.

 

•   Reference the Dodecadomi, the regal squads of the Celsclaran, the Highborn name for themselves: the giant sons of Cel

•   While based upon a Millennial, comprised of multiple companies, as a Warband they are organized more as an oversized company.

•   Maintain extensive slave stock, primarily as crew for their pair of warships.

•   These slave populations suffer a more natural time progression than their Astartes kings, in that generations will live and die in the span of a single decade for the Highborn

•   Ships are immense city-states filled with rival, competitive and often warring tribal crew

 

Home World

 

If the Highborn had ever maintained a domain within the Imperium, in the age of the Emperor and their time as the 3rd Millennial, it was long lost to them and forgotten. For an age, their only home were the Tyrrhese and the Trasena. Even while so many of their brothers would lose themselves to the power of extreme sensation, upon the world of infinite pleasure claimed by their father, the Highborn remained aloft. While they held claim over the Erinn Sector, with so many Imperial worlds relinquishing all authority to the warband in return for continued life in servitude, the Highborn stayed above their dirt and toil.

 

It was after their banishment from the Sector and journey through the Eye of Terror that this would change. On the outskirts of the Eye, sitting near opposite the Gate, a planet sat, frozen in the cold void. Like many of the worlds captured by the Warp’s embrace, it had once been a member of the dead Eldar kingdom. A prison world, in fact. As their kind tumbled closer and closer to damnation, still there were those who had somehow gone too far by their ever-fading morals. The birth of the Prince, their She Who Thirsts, put an end to their empire. Those imprisoned remained, frozen in time by that which was to be their cage and their gaoler as one. The stasis-prison, wrought into existence by Eldar magicks, had readily relented to the velvet touch of Slaanesh. Their forms remained, cold statues upon a featureless landscape, but their souls had long escaped imprisonment to be devoured by the newborn Chaos God.

 

Though long forgotten, nonetheless the Highborn could hear its name whispered to them from the cold mists, Cel. Whether this was the name of the prison or the warden, the Highborn did not know. Perhaps there was no difference. The icy wastes of Cel spoke to the Highborn. The statues of the dead, captured at the moment of species-death, in spite of their kin who struggle still, were objects of beauty. After ages of fruitless searches for perfection, finally the Highborn had come across a true example. A moment of perfection, forever bound in time. Many of the Highborn still bear the scars upon their faces, remnants of the frozen tears when they had so openly wept.

 

The slaves bound to their ships were forbidden to make planetfall. Those that had already come were sacrificed. The Highborn had come upon something exceptional, and it was to be theirs alone. Cel changed them greatly in such a short period of time. Soon, the words they spoke to each other were of some foreign tongue, the sound cold and raspy. They became the Celsclaran, the sons of Cel. And Cel accepted them as her children, the very landscape pliant to their touch. The hot blood that pumped through their hearts would in time give way to ice water. Though the Highborn would spend far greater time on their ships than anywhere else, Cel would forevermore be their home.

 

•   History of Cel, utilized as a prison world of the Eldar before the Fall

•   The Eldar had manifested some magickry to confine and restrain Cel’s population

•   The Fall and coming of Slaanesh corrupted this warden into something new, different, and potentially self-aware

•   Only the Highborn have the rights to walk upon Cel’s surface, none of their mortal slaves have ever set foot.

•   Has been known to entertain Chaos Marine guests, but reluctantly. Rarely do such encounters satisfy all involved.

 

Combat Doctrine

 

•   Effective squad-based combat, an imperfect retaining of Legion doctrines

•   Further attempts are made to hold onto former III Legion elements, such as the Palatine Blades. These attempts are either discarded over time or corrupted beyond recognition.

[Conn Eremon]

I've been sitting on this for a while now, and I'm still not happy with it. But I'm tired of going over it again and again, so I'm posting it as is.

 

I would greatly appreciate some feedback. See first post for full article. Thanks!