Ghoulish​

Milky orbs peer through the darkness. Windows cramped with wedged detritus placed by building's previous inhabitants allow no light to pierce inside the new owner's lair. Slowly several feet of taut flesh and bone extends forward. Limb is deathly white save its claws which, wrapped in scraps of metal and smothered in ashes, are both oddly bulky and muted gray. Other hand follows, arm both near and far behind it. Then both legs bend, uncoiling and creating an ape like spring that leaves feet and hands clutching at wall. Head cranes and eyes peer out through a thin curtain, opaque to outside world but transparent within. A giant walks alone, wrapped in heavy metal that is not marred with countless scrapes and dents, or consumed by the ailment of rust and corrosion. A metal pole rises high from back, so high that actually entering any of the buildings would be a chore. A great banner holds stagnantly on dead winds, inlaid with gold and silver the designs are alien; and yet mind instinctively knows that it hates everything it sees.

One of Diokletious' guards takes point, Alexander following just behind. Having hopped a roof over the Dawnbringer explorers begin descent into a crumbling stairwell. Auto-senses compensate for the darkness for those wearing their helmets, others are left to natural heightened senses and tac-lights. Librarian scrapes the nail of index finger against thumb and sprays several softly glowing embers into the air. Wisps descend down with them, providing a small measure of weak lighting that flickers weakly enough that it does not carry too high a risk of spoiling their presence.

Third floor opens up through a side door, point man sliding around to aim weapons in the door while everyone else either watches the descending stairs behind him or those already tread. Tactical advance is rewarded with no foe. Alexander curling fingers inward on his left palm then swiping them out silently causing embers to relocate through the stairwell and provide a modicum of lightning on the most immediate approaches before stepping into the room. A notable lack of carrion stink greets them despite a cluster of several skeletons sitting dead center of room. Not a scrap of bacteria ridden flesh remains, no blood stains floor, most bones are broken and splintered with marrow drained, and inhuman teeth mars almost every piece of bone left.

Jaws part quietly, saliva thick between jagged fangs and chipped molars. More liquid pools in lower mouth, threatening to overflow, jaws seal back up and throat bulges as precious drink is swallowed back. Dark skies betray no sign of the larger predator anymore, though it is still heard somewhere. It will be risky, but there is always warm flesh and flowing blood underneath the carapace of men. Warm flesh, warm banner...in spite of self drool begins to squeeze out of lip-less maw. Action must be swift, deadly, and silent. Nails draw back curtain revealing a small triangular gap. Several yards behind Nathiel, pale arms and a head swaddled in bandages and rags unfurl from what had been a sealed window during his initial pass.

"Brothers, I have eyes on some fashion of smoke column approaching rapidly about two miles out from our position. Audio distortions are becoming louder, suspect it may actually be music as they are not clearing up and nothing seems to be malfunctioning with our equipment." Pilot chimes in as commander finds himself looking over the hoard of blankets, clothing, lamps, charcoal, sticks, and lighters: all things involving warmth in one way or another.

Nathiel listens in on the vox traffic quietly, little to add as he morosely goes about his duty of securing the streets. Nothing makes itself known. No birds soar above, not a vermin litters the street. Loose papers, spent ammunition, and even dropped weapons linger on the ground, yet not a single sign of actual life makes itself clear.

"Brother Exemplar, tread carefully out there. I can still sense our prey nearby and its lair is empty." Before Nathiel can reply to their Chief Librarian a clawed hand bound tightly in linen rags slaps over the lenses of helmet. A horrendous screeching sound follows, sharp nails grinding against his plate frantically searching for neck and wellspring of vitae running through it.

@BruticusTheGoreHound @matt23

@DeranVendar @matt23

"Understood brother, keep on standby, get the weapons warm."

Speaking into the vox towards his thunderhawk pilot, Diokletious prepares for the worst, as despite the lack of being within this structure, he feels as if something if off. A tingling of his throat is enough to convince him something foul stalks the shadows of these ruins, and the words of their Librarian steel his resolve to track it down. Facing his knights, he'd speak swiftly.

"Let us rejoin with the Exemplar, something approaches, and we shall face it unit-"

A shrill shriek is heard, as all heads turn towards it source, weapons raised. Diokletious takes less time then a beat of his heart to determine their brother is under attack, and rushes to deal with the situation. Charging forth at full speed towards a near broken wall, astartes crashed through it's already weakened form with battle plate. Smashing through the wall, he emerges back into the light, and immediately begins to drop down, eyes turning to look upon what assailed his brother. With jump pack igniting upon him, and claws singing as he plummets into the fray, The Chapter Master can only pray that whatever looks to assail his comrade, has enjoyed what pitiful moments of life remains with it.​

Upon seeing this new world, the Dreadnought would have immediately seeked out transport to its surface - whether others would join him or leave him to his own devices mattered little, but Marcus wished to see this world for himself - he had given little more than a simple message of his whereabouts to Herstius and the rest of Seventh.


From there, well... He would hopefully have gotten himself planetside and hopefully, near or within one of the settlements that the fellow Olympians would have set to making; he knew they would need some sort of assistance, and that is what he would offer. A mighty contemptor, his chassis dented and battleworn, offering his aid to mortals - a story that many would share future generations of the generosity and kindness of the Astartes.

Mighty demigods covered in shining steel, towering over the earliest inhabitants and offering aid after an exodus from a previously destroyed homeworld. Titanic figures aiding in the lifting of heavy materials and construction, words of wisdom and of support.

Still; he knew that there was more to this, and that he saw to venturing out into the wilderness - along with clearing the trees and bringing them closer for usage as timber, he eventually set out and... Wandered. He watched as his UI highlighted different fauna, the critters and the trees. He zoomed in and watched as a gray lion-like beast in the distance move with its younglings, going across the plains with little fear of any predators.

He watched as his mighty sabatons splashed the water in the streams, stopping in the middle of it and stared at the many fish that went through it, as clear as day. He watched, as numerous critters in his still stance, ignored him and lived their life normally, wandering and drinking or eating as they normally would.

It was... Surprisingly peaceful. A thought he never would've guessed could come to mind in his lifetime.

Even now he reached over and raised a massive and stubby 'finger', a falcon-like bird landing upon it and staring into his teal eyeslits. He watched as it relaxed upon his hand, unknowing of the power he had to crush it to a pulp without even needing to active the power field.


A sigh came through his vox, the helm turning from the bird to stare at the rest of the wilderness.

I hope this is a good home, for these people.​

Foreigner ​

Brush rustled all around Marcus, land full of active life. From between tall pines installed countless ages ago by the first settlers, came the adapted descendants of elk. A hulking bull leads a herd of eight others towards the waters, alpha standing a head taller than an astartes at its shoulders. Horns were a hardened patch of brambles, notched and scarred by many defeated challengers. Its unit, whether family or just a small herd of several, were shrunk down enough that none outgrew bull's shadow. The smallest fawns were dark brown with fine hair, ignorantly dipping down into the waters without bothering to check their surroundings like the elder creatures. Smaller males and females began next, hides having grown shaggy and males wearing horns up to a foot and a half long.Bull was something more entirely: fur streaked with broad patches of faded grey hair that ran from forelegs to flanks. Crown stood out three feet in either direction and a pair of stubby tusks poked out from the back of each jaw, extending a few inches past its mouth. On closer inspection the other adults had them too, significantly smaller, but still present as sharp nubs. Curious.

For now the creature restrained itself from drinking, holding its ground with head raised and eyes staring dead on at the foreign monolith rising from the stream.

The Immortal Road​

Nathiel was lost from view, only proud standard quivering above the ambush told them he still stood. Limbs stretched to gross lengths had wrapped around the Exemplar, legs crossing over at the waist while an arm hung like a crane overhead and braced claw against warrior's 'face'. Most its body was wrapped up in varying forms of cloth: a stretch of military blanket wrapped around its thin torso, shirts and skirts twisted closer along parts of each arm as if they were freshly rung out rags. From its front a cheap electric lamp has been hung from a hook curved through loose chest skin. Altogether the Wendigo looks like a poor mans mummy, albeit several degrees more terrifying.

Large armored man proves resilient to claws. Armor is rent but does not yield blood. Its friends are coming, head bends backwards to see them, white eyes practically glowing from between crossing bandages and rags. Arms lift up and claws touch ground, legs detaching from Nathiel and whole lower half twisting so that creature goes from a hand stand to a proper crouch. Dyzek is precisely two seconds out from impact when fiend springs away and lands several yards away from the Dawnbringer reinforcements. Giant man's gang is also made up of big men, smaller though, perhaps softer. Wendigo suddenly lurches in place then freezes, a bolt shell impacting with a bared section of thigh flesh and bouncing off, detonating in mid-air. Skin is nowhere so weak as it looks.

By now there is no escaping the noise of approaching natives. Guitars wail furiously, fingers misting blood across the instruments as digits shred with such force that even callouses split against the rough strings. Someone thunders away on drums like a thunderous god of old. Wendigo does not fancy these odds, yet new prey must be studied, and its stomach is full of emptiness. Then there is flame, too much warmth!

Alexander stands behind screen of own brothers, counting on them to act as unwitting protection. Fiery wisps followed them from the building and danced behind the abomination. A cantrip upon each one causes humble sparks to become roaring walls of proud white flame that begin forming a snare about the Wendigo. Monster lets out a shrill whine and slashes at flames closing about a leg. Straight ahead several armored cars whip around a turn, breaks screeching and tires squealing. This is a poor hunt, rich feast will follow though. For now it need only hide and wait, on this note fiend lunges away from growing flames and dives into a gutter running along the road. Limbs cling to side and like a serpent the thing slips down into a storm drain and vanishes beneath the streets.

Any hope of pursuit is curtailed by new arrivals. Clearly civilian vehicles have drifted into a three strong half-circle in the intersection nearby. Men lean out of the small cars and their windows, some propping up crude homemade guns through old sun roofs, others brandishing spears of rusty piping and topped with bushels of whatever sharp objects are at hand. Military grade hardware followed them: a Chimera rolls up with its forward heavy bolter having been busted out and replaced with a long spar of metal upon which dangles a skeleton. Multilaser still looks functional at least, its back transport area has been gutted and replaced with a music pit laden with exposed wiring, multiple stereos and a single half-naked guitarist responsible for most of the noise.

Bringing up the rear is a flat bed truck flanked with smoking exhaust pipes that only Orks should ever love. Driver is a bucktoothed man with ratty patches of hair on an otherwise shaved scalp and an ancient mark of nightvision goggles. Another man claims passenger seat, arms crossed and a shotgun sitting barrel up between him and the door. With most of the cabin's roof sawn off there is little to cover the barrel of a mortar unit sitting crooked in the flat bed. Truck pulls up alongside the Chimera, man in the passenger seat hunches and lifts his feet up into seat so he might stand. Native wears a scrap reinforced hub cap as his only armor, a pair of beat up leather pants completes the ensemble. A voice-caster is handed up to him by the driver, man ripping it from other man's hand and used to broadcast Low Gothic at the gathered Astartes.

"Strangers! I Path-Rider Crul, son to Chromite Cruel. You enter lands of they who drive Immortal Road! Do you bring tribute?"

Dawnbringers Council: One​

In orbit above Zeussar the first council of the Dawnbringers was called. Every Captain, every support head, Exemplar Nathiel, and the Chapter Master gathered within a finely furbished strategium aboard Odiaus' Pride. A long table of polished marble and surrounded by equally lavish thrones supported the Dawnbringers in their coming meeting. Once everyone arrived a Serf, The Master of the House, standing at Diokletious' side would unfurl a scroll and commence the meeting.

"This first meeting of the Emperor's Dawnbringers will now enter into session. Today's order of debate shall pertain to matters put forth by my lords during the past thirty day period. We begin with inter-chapter relations. The honored Soul Smith Castor wishes to know if we intend to contact the Salamanders and inform them of our new fate, or if we are to cast aside all previous ties." Castor raises his head, cloaked in the warm color bone provided by his grimly fashioned helmet.

"Secondly: the Lord Dawnbringer himself, Diokletious, has called everyone to task so that it may be decided how involved the chapter shall be in the governance and command of the home world's peoples. Third: Captain Menelaus of The Torch Bearers raises a question pertaining to the Lord Guilliman's Codex and our company composition. Shall they be used to create an under strength company, or would they better serve temporarily reinforcing existing units until such a time a full strength company might be mustered? These are the matters of the day. For any of my lords whom grow to hunger or thirst your Serfs humbly await any request." Master of the House bows deeply and rolls up parchment before silently retreating into the shadows behind Diokletious.

@Redthirst @BruticusTheGoreHound @matt23 @Vlayden @Vulpas @WanderingJester ​

The Contemptor watched them for a long time, its raised arm with the falcon lowering to his side and the other remaining limp - his attention lay not only with the elk like creatures, but the fauna in general around him. It was a sight that he'd not thought to see before. It was...

Beautiful.



The council itself was one that Marcus expected; after all under this new guise, there were even more things to deal with. As all spoke, the Contemptor rolled his shoulders, and perhaps was the first one to speak his voice.

"I do believe that keeping ties with the Salamanders would be a good suggestion; any allies we can have are sourly needed in the state we are in. However, I would think that it is best that those who aided them upon Isstvan, should see to meeting and messaging them so as to be sure they do not think we are lying of anything."

"The second topic, however... I am unsure. For the time being, with such low populations, we will have to rely upon simply reinforcing our existing companies; we can only see to creating new ones once the populace are strong enough that taking such numbers of aspirants among them would not affect their growth."

"Upon that note, should we keep to what this Codex says? Or should we see to creating our own organizational layout? With not even half a chapter's strength, we shall rely heavily upon allied forces to aid us in battle, should we need more than a company's worth, moreso if we keep to merely these... Two assault marines, and two devastators per company; we do not have specialized units as we do within the Great Crusade, yet we still have such weapons from those days."

@DeranVendar @matt23

The creature, a ragged figure of taut muscles, patchy flesh, and hating eyes, would turn to find Diokletious moving in to engage it. Only, the speed of their Librarian would see to reach it first, as the chapter master watched it's form under assault by the fires set loose from his ally's own power. Watching it dash off, to slink away into the shadows, the Dawnbringer looks to begin pursuit, to purge this abomination completely, yet, the sounds of the approaching engines draw his gaze upwards. It seems the column his air support had spotted now came to engage them, and by The Emperor, Diokletious would not turn away from such a meeting. Thus, as the ramshackled vehicles came circling about, he'd quickly speak over the vox, preparing his honour guard for battle.

"Defensive stance men, we do not know the nature of these people here, but we shall shine some truth out of it."

Upon a private channel to the Chief Librarian, he speaks another swift request.

"Can you read their souls brother? Can you see if the taint of The Warp is upon them?"

As the lead vehicle comes riding up, the cacophony of their war convoy only growing louder, Diokletious sees a figure stand up, armoured in a way that reminded him of the greenskins. Swiftly identifying the leader of this rabble, the marine takes a step forward, his blue gaze locked upon the mortal.

"Path-Rider Crul, I am of The Emperor's Angels. We come to your world seeking answers, to the nature of your domain."

It was a declaration, yet for now he'd try to keep things from escalating, pushing aside the mention of a tribute. The thought was laughable that these folk would ever try to claim anything from one of the Astartes, yet he would not bring this up for now. Instead, he'd send swift orders for their thunderhawk to prepare for a combat pass, identifying the multiple more threatening vehicles in their small assembly.7

_____
​

@DeranVendar @matt23 @Vlayden @Vulpas @WanderingJester @Redthirst

The chapter master listens to the words of first his mortal serf, and then those of his interred brother, weighing their meaning and the potential that comes from them. That Castor had brought up the mention of the Salamanders was one of import, yet, he could sense an unspoken meaning behind his request. Revealing their nature to the Salamanders would indeed mean another group would know of their true origins, and thus, through them, the potential for the Iron Warriors creed could live on. With a conceal smile behind his mask, Diokletious raises his hand, indicating his desire to address the council. In response, The Master of The House speaks.

"Chapter Master Diokletious, Lord Dawnbringer, is recognized by the chamber."

A small thing, to allow the mortal the position to choose who will speak and when, but it was a humble decision he'd made, to remind all they were beholden to the people of The Imperium. Their thoughts and decisions would be made after such a person chose to acknowledge them. Standing from his position, giving a curt approving nod towards the man, Diokletious turns his gaze back towards his interred brother, Marcus.

"Indeed brother, in these times of strife, it is important to have allies and friends, and thus, I am of the same mind. We are the Adeptus Astartes, and by our might we push back the darkness, yet, we will perform our duties more effectively with another chapter at our side. The trust the Salamanders gave us over Istvaan is something I seek to continue to encourage, and so, by the will of this council, I present my plan of action."

Turning his gaze now, he'd rest it upon his first captain, his head of Kerberos Company.

"Brother, long have you been considered a stalwart ally and defender of the Imperium. It was you, over the killing fields of Istvaan itself that first convinced the Salamanders of our loyalty to The Emperor, beloved by all. It is my intention now to send you as our representative to the sons of Nocturne. Go to them, tell them of our tale, and let them know that we still survive. However, you must only reveal our true nature to their heads, or The Primarch alone, and impart the importance of our departure from our legion roots. It would be in the best interest of all that the ties made between the Salamanders, are made with The Dawnbringers we are, and not The Iron Warriors we were."

He'd let the words hang in the air a moment, noting the reactions of Castor himself, seeing what he'd think on the matter. Yet, he was not done, as he wished to also give his thoughts on the other matters at hand, to test the waters, and see how the others felt.

"Moving on, the fate of our mortal allies, our colonists of Zeussar, is a matter we should consider carefully. I know there are some here that wish to be an active part of their lives here, as I have heard tell of the mighty dreadnought that aids in their construction."

He'd direct that particular comment towards Marcus, the warmth of his voice plain to hear for all. Yet, as he'd continue, he'd turn his gaze towards the viewscreen, towards Zeussar itself.

"However, this planet is a new start for our people, and we have already made our initial surveys of the land. There are dangers here, that is all to clear to us, and while some may wish to be an active part of our mortal allies lives, I would speak against that coddling. We must let them fight, let them grow, and develop, on their own. Our mastery of this world is one thing, but the governance of these people should be left to their own devices, for who are we to decree the best way of life, when we are up here in the stars, waging our wars for them. I agree that we need to provide a stable foundation for our people, but beyond that, we must let them go, as a parent to a child, to let them find their own way. It will not be easy, it will be painful, but it will make them strong, it will make them all the greater for it. This world is dangerous, and will push men to survive, but they are the blood of Old Olympia, and I believe they will succeed where so many others will fail."

He'd remain silent for a few moments following this, his own mind lost in thought, as he stared silently upon Zeussar. It would be almost seen that he'd spoken his piece, when atlast, he'd turn around, and continue.

"Of the last point, the way is clear. We adhere to the codex for this time, and keep an under strength third company. Perhaps this means the fourth company will not be able to field a full war effort for a time, yet it will be a challenge I am sure they will best in the end. It will be better that our fourth company begins to face it's trials now, rather then await reinforcements. Dark days are ahead my friends, and who are we to say we shall always fight at full company strength? No, I believe this will be a good learning experience for us all."

With that, Diokletious would give a nod to the assembled men before him, before taking his seat, waiting to see how his thoughts would stew in the minds of his comrades. Taking in a breath, he'd silently offer up a prayer to The God-Emperor, while he awaited reply.​

Herchel - Promotion and captain ship
It had been several months since Herchel had fully gotten used to being a captain, Paper work training schedules and the new plan kept him a bit busier with Kerberos company and training the new terminator formations and getting him and his men used to the new indominatus pattern terminator armor sets they had in. It had been going well enough that after they arrived they finally began getting up Odiaus old terminator guard formation setup into a defensive formation that Herchel had pinned down in his company tactics.

It was after there daily training was done it was Herchel's few hours he had off did he get time to visit the planet heading down Herchel visited the Olympian settlements and looked to the forest people exploring the people of the world. A few ideas kept in mine possibly if they were creating the fortress monetary down here for some type of flame.

A sentimental one for there rebirth something that Dy- Diokletious might be into and something to remember the past fallen and maybe be beacon for those lost dead souls from there battalion like Xerxes or possibly Odiaus, maybe to make it down here one day to settle. Herchel wondered for a moment a long time before a few Serfs approached Herchel trying to spread to him something Dyzek had been preaching, It oddly struck a cord with him.

While Herchel remembered the teaching of the imperial truth, He also remembered his Experiences on Terra fighting those monsters and daemons, and even seeing Xerxes again and other ghosts, Hell if they were real there was a possibility of the emperor being a god. Herchel kept wondering to this till he snapped back to reality as he head one of his timers going of to remind him of how much time he sill had on the planet.
"looks like its almost time to get prepped to get back, Hell likely have to get my armor in for Villhelm to begin working on getting us our new colors and Getting Kerberos company Markings on it." Herchel said to himself with a smile as he began making his way back to the settlement


Dawnbringer Council - @BruticusTheGoreHound @Vlayden @WanderingJester @Redthirst @matt23 @DeranVendar
Herchel was seated in a Toga, Covering him his armor not in due to having maintenance on it while he was in council. As he heard the suggestions and heard he would be sent to see the salamanders again,and not only that but telling there leaders that they live put a smile on his face. After Diokletious spoke Herchel spoke when he had the table "Good to hear we are gonna keep our relations with our old buddies up, Marcus has a good point about making allies with those we did over istavaan though I got to say I don't think it maybe a good idea to tell those iron hands of our existence, Salamanders do to making a bigger impact likely a better idea," Herchel said ending his statement on chapter relations.

As they went onto Governance, Dyzek said which was needed a point he could agree on, help them out but not to much they will always need them for every problem. "Having the people of this world Forge themselves like we reforge ourselves is good idea, They will likely survive being part of all our bloods. helping em out if they really need it is possible such as a invasion but internal affairs they should be able to handle, Unless something big happens." Herchel said before turning onto the last topic of Codexs and staying with formation and having a under strength company or having them reinforce the other companies.

"I would have to say having a under strength company as a reserve company maybe good instead of having them as a full battle company, Possibly staying on our planet for defense until there at full strength, Someone to watch our territory if the other companies are away. On the topic of remaining codex adherent I suggest we should as well except for a few variation such as specialty squads such as honour guard, and possibly something that maybe useful bring back, Chapter master Do you remember Brummdar's old experiment involving Mixed squads? Do you think it would be a wise idea to bring them possibly back and add them to our formations? There was also A idea i had about bringing a formation back that was similar to Odaiuses old bodyguards as a shield formation for assault termiantor groups that I would like permission to bring within the codex patterns.?" Herchel asked looking to his chapter master. a question and idea in head along with his assault termiantors formation hes been cooking up a type of off of Odiasus old honor guard tactic.

Kremnar Eranite sat silently in the back of the meeting, having shown up quietly after being summoned and only to honor the command structure. He had disappeared after venting his frustration from the chapter formation meeting at the firing range, and only a few astartes not already familiared with him seemed to have seen the captain afterward outside of combat deployments. The sternguard veteran and newly promoted captain had readjusted his artificer armor. Where there had been honors on his black armor, now it had been removed, covered in a coat of midnight black paint in contrast to the new colors of the chapter. Over it flowed the slightly lighter dark grey robes that, unlike their brothers from Caliban, covered the entire power armor, including his helmet.

The helm had been the only piece with any color on it. Having replaced the visors heavily tinted, someone had painted a sloppy, bone white skull on the helmet. With the darkness of the armor's coat of paint, combined with the shade of the hood that shaded the entire helmet, the paleness of the paint made a terrifying visage of a punishing skull staring out from under the hood when one stared directly at the astartes's gaze. His dual weapons hidden behind the robes, a black gauntlet reached out from under one of the two long sleeves covering the armored arms of the captain and held his power scythe against himself, the power field obviously off. To the more observant of those in the chapter, they would notice that he had not been alone in his new attire; those that served under him in combat recently had also begun to be avoidant of others, grouping together in their hooded forms, skulls painted upon their dark armor.

Kremnar had spoken little since the meeting began, seemingly resting in his unmoving form. In truth, he had little interest in everything being discussed. His presence there being a mere formality, he never the less gave a peripheral attention to the words being spoken and ideas being discussed, though never speaking up himself. Finally, when directly addressed, the hooded captain would look up to the general audience through his painted helm, his voice flat, even slightly disinterested. "Rendezvous with the Salamanders; at least they have a worthy father to answer to." He looked over each of the members in the room, and seemed to not really see them. "Let the mortals will live or die on their own; if they cannot survive, they cannot be of use to us as recruits anyways. As for formations: to the void with the codex. Make full companies where we can with the existing troops; we'll create more companies as we rebuild."

With that Kremnar fell silent once more, his form returning to its motionless state. He did not take the time to explain his reasoning. If the others wished to hear it, they would inquire about it. His vote and answer stated, the captain waited for the meeting to end in order to resume his usual day to day, though exactly what that was had been revealed only to those who also don the robes of darkness with him.

Diplomacy​

"No tribute?" Man cuts off Diokletious mid-sentence, hand sliding down to the stock of his shotgun and pulling it up. "All bring tribute to riders of Immortal Road! Whether they know it or no! Run them down sons, pave way to glory with their bodies!" Triggers sink back and a zealous cry springs forth from the warriors of the Immortal Road. Ratty driver next to Path-Rider Crul hands a mortar up to the man before throwing their vehicle in reverse. Crul dumps it down into the tube propped up behind him, a child previously flattened down out of sight sprouts up and begins aiming the support piece while Crul raises his shotgun and takes aim directly at Diokletious.

One of the smaller compact cars lacking a roof mounted machine gun zips toward Nathiel, bouncing over a curb. Passenger leans out, brandishing his spear tipped with a weighted head brimming with black powder. Exemplar stands nearly as broad as the charging vehicle, and the weight of the standard above his head means infinitely more than whatever weight the car possesses. Raising shield Nathiel lays into the vehicle. It practically disintegrates around him, battered automobile no match for Cataphracti armor. Burning debris roll past the others, Nathiel marching straight through lingering flame and towards the other vehicles. By now Thunderhawk has crested the building turned Wendigo lair, and now looms overhead....

Chapter Council: Casting Judgement
"Chief Librarian Alexander is recognized by the chamber." ​

"Thank you. Brothers, I must decline the notion that we need re-establish our former relations with the Salamanders. We have forsaken our name and history almost entirely, and to cherry pick its use now leaves both parties in a precarious position. We abandon our lineage as tainted, having foreseen future trouble with an Imperium that will care nothing of our deeds, but those of our Father. Informing the Salamanders, even only Lord Vulkan or his most venerable officers, creates a link to that past that if ever revealed could and would jeopardize both their reputation, and our future. Even if it comes to pass millennia from now, the ties to traitors may be dire." Castor does not allow Alexander to take a breath before intervening himself, pointing sharply at the Serf.

"Soul Smith Castor is recognized by the chamber."​

"Appreciated, now I must agree with Alexander's point, but that is where my objection ends. Let us go to them as Dawnbringers and nothing more and forge a bond. It is well known that our cousins from Nocturne are struggling, we are both in similiar positions, however what is a miracle to us is tragedy to them. Offering aid, particularly via cooperative campaigning would be an excellent opportunity. I believe this might feed in to our concerns over the under-strength company as well. If permitted, we can send our Fourth Company out, bleeding them and forming a hardened core of veterans. When they return we shall have a handy stable of recruits ready to greet them."

"Scout Captain Ak--"
​

"Let us not be too eager with the Salamanders. They are in a hard place, and brotherhood is a powerful thing, but their pride may be fragile and our efforts could very well be rebuffed. Do keep in mind we are now Ultramarines not Iron Warriors. I advocate a more isolationist stance for now, let us build ourselves up and become a worthy force in our own right. Acting now, especially if we go as only Dawnbringers, may look like we are trying to ride on the coat tails of the Salamanders. Revealing who we are negates this issue, but, our Chief Librarian might have a point about leaving as few loose ends as possible."