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A Cruel Angel's Thesis

Being an account of the I Legion Angeli Tenebrae, the war prosecuted against a tyrant Emperor by the Warmaster Horus, and the fall of a Legion.

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"We, once-merciful Angels, have forgotten sympathy.

Ascend now, for our names have become legend."

- Attributed to Master Azas Vem, Knight of the Angeli Tenebrae, Blood of Terra, Lord of the Eastern Sphere, Survivor of Rangdan, the First Reaper, and a battle-born brother to Luther of Caliban.

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The Fall of the Knights of Caliban and of Terra, of the Emperor's holy Angels of Death and Darkness, the revered First, is often attributed in cause to the perfidy of Ser Luther el'Caliban, brother to Lion el'Jonson, Lord of Angels and Slayer of the Last Beast. Rejection and custodianship weighed heavy on my lord Luther's shoulders, until he could stand no longer and broke beneath the strain. Independently of the Warmaster's rebellion of the same era, he made attempt to use the confusion and chaos of war to his advantage, a political gambit to seize the power his Lord had given him and claim the world of Caliban for his own. But he failed, and as a result Caliban was lost and a full half the Legion was lost to void, scattered to space and time. So does the story go among the ranks of my former brothers who even now relentlessly seek me, in a futile effort to redeem their perceived shame.

The story is a lie.

While it may well be true that the catalyst of the Fall of Angels was the action of Ser Luther, its true roots can be traced back many years prior, long before the Horus Heresy, or the great Crusade that preceded it, before the Genocides of Rangdan, all the way back through the Solar Pacification and the Unification Wars, to the very foundations of the Astartes upon Terra. The processes later founded to raise Legions to strength were merely in the very earliest stages of gestation, and the Emperor still prosecuted his war with the cohorts of the Tontrua Milites that would define that era of the Imperium. At the Legions' incept, many projects were being undergone, variations on the implantation process of geneseed that made a Space Marine. The best known of these were the Firstborn and the Paragons, but many more besides these existed, their names lost to history. The pain of these processes were unlike any other, and is it any surprise that many of those who survived the march of years turned their backs to the Emperor in grave defiance of tyranny?

The First Legion's, always, even before the founding of Caliban and its lost primarch, and the subsequent melding with the Order, has been one of layers and complexity of rank and standing. Our organization was the template, yes, but the later Legions never fully knew all of that. The nominal Legion structure outlined by the officiants of Terra was merely a pale reflection in a darkened glass of the original. Circles within and circles without, informal and ritual, hidden, though not always secret: that was what defined us. We knew our place and we held our tongue before others. As such, our disquiet was silent until spoken of. Through our time in the Legion, nary a wayward word, though.

There were five of us to begin with. Over time this number grew in strength. By the time of Caliban, our circle numbered in the thousands, all who had the same mind: sic semper tyrannis. The Emperor was a tyrant of the worst sort, and we would one day destroy him. We had chosen our side, even if we never chose to exercise upon our decision until the time was right. We stood in silence with the Warmaster.

This tale, this recollection, is a history of our circle. We forwent with mercy and sympathy: such was a liability in the war against a tyrant and a despot who had none, even if it never was open. I was there at the beginning, and I remember my brother Azas Vem speaking us into motion. This here is my account, and my argument, my reason. This is my thesis.

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[Pict-capture: Knight-Sergeant Marqius was a brother who had served with us since the earliest days of Crusade and through the punishing days of the Rangdan Genocides that destroyed our Legion. I trusted him with my life, right up until the day he took the blade of a Decurion Paladin meant for me that final day on Caliban.]

Edited by Soldier of Dorn
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The best known of these were the Firstborn and the Paragons, but many more besides these existed, their names lost to history. The pain of these processes were unlike any other, and is it any surprise that many of those who survived the march of years turned their backs to the Emperor in grave defiance of tyranny?

 

 

I approve wholeheartedly :wink:

Very excited to see where this goes, especially now that the allegiance actually caught me offguard :)

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We appear to have switched sides brother ;) Looking awesome though, caught sight of Marqius on FB, he's looking bloody cool.

 

Excited to see how this progresses!

Edited by Aeternas
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Well, this is an entirely unexpected response. Didn't quite expect so many replies so soon. I greatly appreciate it, very encouraging to me. :)

 

So, in light of an explanation, this isn't going to be replacing my Fists anytime soon, in case anyone is wondering. Merely a project on the side... found some inspiration recently, polished off some very old material I had for a 40k Fallen army from a collaborative project that sadly never really came to fruition and reframed them within the Heresy. This will hopefully be the impetus to get me back working on miniatures on a regular basis. Trying to stick to a narrative, introspective format with this one. No idea how big this project will get since I'm (mostly) not building to any list (though there is still a plan of sorts) merely staying within a theme and modeling as and where the inspiration strikes. A great deal of credit must go to depthcharge12 for being the first, to the best of my knowledge, to combine Deathwing and Cataphractii in the way that I am using for my Deathwing squad, as must go to Apologist for inspiring with "May You Live Forever," probably the singular thing that made me settle on an internal narrator.

 

Anyways, some replies:

 

Dallo: Thank you, man. I'll do my best. ;)

Observer: Thought you would, mate. ;) Caught off-guard, eh? Glad to hear that. Also, on the topic of the paragons... I may have something in mind for this force. ;)

Firelupus: Thank you!

Charlo: To be perfectly honest <.< >.> I've never seen NGE either (though I do plan to, eventually.) I do very much like that song, and the title seemed like something entirely suitable for a Fallen.

Mikhail: In all honesty, I'll be damned if I know. I suspect it might be from the Mark III box, but it was just floating around one of my many bits boxes.

Aeternas: Ha, indeed we have! The Fall of Angels, though, is something that's interested me since I started this hobby, and I've always wanted to do a force based on it. Finally getting round to now. I'll see you at Caliban, then... brother. :P

Vairocanum: Thank you! I will endeavor to get some more stuff ready. Next post, with any hope, should be ready tomorrow.

The_Chaplain: Thanks mate, means a lot coming from you! Been a while since I've seen you post anything on the Confessors... fingers crossed you haven't left them behind. :)

Son of Carnelian: Ah, man. That should be coming soon enough, but you'll probably get a bit of a preview before anything else goes live. Our conversations, tangential as they might be, I think have contributed a lot to how I'm going about this project and the quality of my writing.

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Observer: Thought you would, mate. ;) Caught off-guard, eh? Glad to hear that. Also, on the topic of the paragons... I may have something in mind for this force. ;)

Is that so? Then we must converge hastily, I say! ;) Shoot me a pm with whatever you have in mind whenever you are ready :D

And to answer Mikhail's question about the head, it is actually from the Death Watch kit (The Mk8 armor one), just checked it :)

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Where to begin... not with history, no. Now is not yet the time to recall our founding. That comes later. No, before I speak of how we came to be in any depth, you must first understand what we are.

We are no Company, no Chapter or Order. Nothing truly marks us as one... no unity of colors or any such thing. No... the only thing that binds us together as one is unity of mind. Certainly, there are markings that some among our number have adopted to symbolize this, but that is not what makes us one. Indeed... that is not our nature. Formality exists because of thought. Without it, nothing else matters. If we claim to be the inheritors of the ancient philosophs, such must be the case.

It should come to no surprise, therefore, that we counted many of the more elite of the Six Wings - the Hexagrammaton - among our number, and Calibanites alongside the founding Terrans that made up our number. Deathwing, Dreadwing, Stormwing... all were counted the same.

A perfect example is Ser Alier Marquis, Knight-Sergeant, Rex Indominae Terminator Squad, Ordination of the Deathwing. Born of Caliban, he was recruited into the ranks of the Legion soon after the founding of the planet and the Primarch, and quickly found his way into our circle. By the time of his death at the great Fracture of Caliban, the event that would mark the end of our Legion, he had risen through the ranks, and I was proud to say he was one of my most trusted, and beloved brothers.

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  • 8 months later...

You... my captors. You bear the name of my Legion, but you are not them. You wear not the black of shadows, the darkness, but instead the noble green of Caliban. And you have the audacity to name yourself Angels, when not a single one of you has stood before a God or his Twenty Sons and known the meaning of fear.

Because make no mistake. The Emperor, tyrannic as he may have been, was a God -- or at least as close to the divine as any who yet have lived and died. Glory, majesty, and power were his, and only unto himself dependent. He may have denied his divinity, but he never shy'd from conduct as to become as such. The irony, if he could see the consequences that his actions had wrought upon his Imperium... but I suppose he could. For someone so blind as the Emperor, he had a gift of foresight, undeniably so. I will not doubt him nor the rest of his power.

But I ramble. It's been long since we last spoke of what happened all those years ago, and I suppose we must resume. Where was I... ah, yes, what we were.

A circle of brothers, bound by brotherhood tighter than any we had ever known. Brotherhood brought by pain, the pain of service to a man whom we loathed for his sins, the pain of knowledge of consequence and of evil works we had done. We debated this for many years in the secret places and the shadowed corners of our workings. Our machinations festered as we deliberated on these things.

And finally we found our illumination, or rather, something else. The ending of the evil we had propagated in his name was not to be found in the light. We had seen too many good men slain for petty and inconsequential reason by those we had been bound to, unable to defend themselves for love of their principles and their moralities. No, the only cure for evil was yet greater evil, and ultimately self-annihilation. There was no room for doubt.

Then was when we foreswore mercy. Those who styled themselves as good men cast aside the petty chains of morality and sympathy in the name of the just. It was the only way, you see? Towards the object of the achievement of the good, we had to become monsters. Above the concerns of men, we had truly become Angels.

You ask of me my repentance. You beg it of me and demand it of me. I tell you the truth. I have none to give. I have made it my oath to have none.



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[Pict-capture: Knight-Paladin Caradoc was a dark one, even by the standards of our matter. He served with us near enough the beginning as to count himself as such in all but fact, but he never grew to the level of trust and bond that many of us shared. So far as I know of, he survived the Fall of Angels and numbered among the Diaspora of the Legion. Perhaps you found him, and his bones lie among the foundations of this place, or perhaps he roams still, a revenant, an artefact of a time long past, as we all are.]

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What fantastic narrative! A lesser man might actually be swayed by your “enlightening” words. But I know the truth... and I don’t fancy a visit to Cell 42 :D

 

Wicked paint job, that pale head is terrific. I’m looking forward to more Fallen to hunt

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