Chimera Legion
| Chimera Legion. | ||
|---|---|---|
| Battle Cry | 'The flesh is weak, before the forge!' or 'For Thodos!' | |
| Strength | Unknown. | |
| Specialty | Obliterators and Body Modification. | |
| Allegiance | Undivided | |
| Colours | Dark blue with bronze trim, all-bronze left arm and hazard stripes on the right leg. | |
The Chimera Legion are a /tg made Chaos Warband, a mercenary splinter group of the Iron Warriors that worships the Obliterator Virus. They excel at genetech and body modification, making living weapons out of themselves and the swarms of cultists that follow them fanatically. If you've got a siege you just can't crack, a target that just won't go down, they're the ones to call.
Overview[edit]
The Chimera Legion takes the view that when the Emperor created the glorious warrior that is the Space Marine, he left some room for improvement. This they do with enthusiasm on their own bodies. Want to upgrade those dinky old fingers with snazzy tearing talons? How about a barbed tentacle that spits acid? A mouth on your shoulder that sings worship to the Chaos Gods? Why not?
They bring the same enthusiasm to their army of cultists. A traitorous guardsman may find his lasgun welded into his chest, leaving his hands free to become a pair of giant crab claws. The cultists' own enthusiasm on the subject is as varied as it is irrelevant. In extreme cases, Chimeras may turn their cultists into full-on Chaos Spawn to improve their combat abilities. They've even been known to send modified cultists in to infiltrate the enemy, appearing normal up until the point where they explode into flaying tentacles.
They also see Obliterators as the pinnacle of human potential. Veterans that have proved themselves worthy have the virus bestowed upon them, inevitably going insane as the infection pulls their minds apart. Inspired by their leader, each marine hopes that they will remain strong enough to keep their sanity. So far, no one has.
Organisation[edit]
The Warband itself is led by Thodos, an obliterator turned daemon prince, however when Thodos is busy in the warp, dicking about or regenerating, the warband is instead lead by his advisors, the Quintumvirate. These are Arlek the Ironchosen, High Commander Silas Warpshriek, Archanon of the Steel Soul, Orphaeus Paraphron the High Fleshshaper, and High Prophessor Tianakles.
Leaders[edit]
- Thodos: Obliterator turned Daemon Prince
- Arlek the Ironchosen: A mentor then close friend and confidant to Theodorus during the Heresy, Arlek accidentally exposed his friend to the Obliterator Virus and sent him down the path to Princedom. Within the legion he manages the forges and factories of the Legion. His role as liason to the Dark Mechanicus allows him to manage the finances of the legion with ease, his mechanical mind suited to such work.
- High Commander Silas Warpshriek: A raptor of exceptional clarity and shrewd cunning, Silas is Thodos' military right hand man, overseeing deployment, recruitment, and campaign operations of the Chimeras. Like a son to Thodos, Silas is fatalistically loyal to Thodos, and has learned much of commanding troops under his lord.
- Archanon: Undisputed master of the attendant sorcerer covens, the wizard offers cryptic council and mysticism to an otherwise business-like committee. The sorcerer is oft untrusted and begrudgingly listened to.
- Orphaeus Paraphron: High Fleshshaper: As the Ironchosen commands the crucibles and forges of the legion so does Orphaeus oversee the precious Chimera laboratories. From the development of new viruses to the perfection and application of mutagens, Orphaeus lords over it all. Sometimes he will trade with other lords of the craft, like Eldar Haemonculi or the Venerable Fabius Bile to further his own research.
- High Prophessor Tianakles: Held in the esteem of Thodos for his skills of Oration and control Tiankles is the father of the Chimeric Cult, the thousands of cultists ready to die for the legion falling under his direct supervision from his great pulpit.
Notable Members[edit]
- Echidnus the Challenged: A powerful Obliterator with a fearsome reputation and a hoarding compulsion. Once a deadly champion of Chaos, what little scraps of sanity he has left leads him to stalk the battlefield in search of worthy opponents to duel. Once he finishes killing them, he claims their weapon and stabs it into his back. After a few thousand years of being one of the hardest motherfuckers around, there's a veritable trove of ancient relic weapons inside him, leading many to seek him out and invariably add to his collection. Both Trazyn and the Blood Ravens will pay top dollar for his corpse.
Writefaggotry[edit]
Allow me to go on a tangent, if I may.
Consider the Chimera. A noble, savage, proud beast, but it is greater than the sum of its parts.
Take the lion, for example. Strong, unyielding, proud. The lion makes the Chimera strong, but strength is overcome by guile and wit, and worn down in the face of adversity.
But what of the Ram? Yes, the humble ram. He who is of a mindless herd, yet bold, tough, adaptable. The ram may not have the strength of the Lion, nor the venomous faculties of the clever serpent, but he is tenacious and adaptable, able to survive where the others cannot.
And what of the viper? That most insidious limb of the honourable Chimera. It whispers, flitting in and out of the brush. The Malevolent snake is the alien mind of the Chimera, offering tainted knowledge and deadly venom to an otherwise dumb beast.
Thus is the marine of the Chimeric Legion , as is their machine God, Thodos the Ironbringer. Proud metal to strengthen changing flesh fueled by the warp.
Steel and Iron.
Flesh and Bone.
Warp and Daemon.
This is the path that leads to perfection. This is the evolution of the terrible Chimera.
Should this not be the path of Thodos and his Brothers and Sons, oh brothers mine?
Untitled[edit]
The Pride of Thodos swelled, pullasting, twisting flesh girding against plates of twisting metal, the kinfe like vessel shuddering in the void like a woman in the throes of a violent birth. The rest of the Chimeric fleet silently drifting in the void, like attendant midwives, bristling with anticipation.
Within the groaning interior of the mighty Pride marines, crew, and cultists poured into the twisting halls and layered decks, sprinting to the command deck of the ship. The warband flooded through tunnels, bulkheads, walkways, and through the great sweeping doorway that lead to the heart of the ship. The marines stood in tight formations around a great dias of smooth black metal. The champions of the warband stood upon the periphery of this obsidian column in grim silence. The crew and attendant cultists huddled on the deck and in balconies and on gangways in a chittering, awed mass.
The champions then nodded to one another and then in unison spilled their own blood. Some poured blood, already shed, from vials or chalices. Others drug blades across exposed flesh, allowing their lifeblood to splash against the glossy surface. The commanders called the formations to attention and the marines snapped to with a thunderous clap. The cult fell silent, cowed by the display.
A moment passed, the air pregnant with anticipation, then with a sound like a whip crack in reverse the inky surface of the dias began to ripple and churn and heave like stormy ocean water before illuminating with a pale light and droning howl. From the tumultuous pool rose a mighty figure, dripping in luminous metal.
Spears, axes, swords, shields, and even fire arms adorned his broad back, each a monument to a failed attempt to kill him. He rolled his great shoulders and unfolded his thick arms, spreading them wide and ushering a mighty, bellowing roar. The champions nealt as their lord towered over them. The marines followed suit and the crowd, now wild with zeal and fervor fell to their knees.
Had the Prince a face it would bear a satisfied grin. This was all of course, theatrics. He had already been on board the vessel for a few days now, and had already discussed the battle plans with his lieutenants for the encroaching Ork fleet, that even now as the ceremony proceeded drew closer and closer in what they thought was a sneak attack.
But this was Thodos' specialty. There were many Princes more powerful than he, even though he himself was a force to be reckoned with, and many a Tzeentchian Daemon several times more clever. But there was few with greater charisma, with a greater sense of gravitas. Thodos knew how to hold an audience, command respect, lead soldiers and be rewarded with loyalty. He was charismatic in was that Slanneshi lords could not be, not in that cloying, sickly sweet manner in which they did everything, nor through fear or mere domination alone like Khornate warriors. Thodos knew when to laugh menacingly, when to reward a soldier, how to punish failure. He had forsight and tactical acumen in all aspects if his existence, which is why he was a Daemon Lord with a successful warband and a large fleet.
Which is why every single approaching ork would find graves in the void.
He let out a deep chuckle, low and menacing, and waved a hand over the crowd, "RISE, MY LEGION." The crowd, marines, crew, and cultist alike cheered and hollered and screamed.
He was about to begin his usual inspiring speech when the claxons of the Pride began to cry out. Thodos was partly relieved, he knew the veterans had heard many such a speach before and simply wished to go back to doing whatever menial task they were entertaining themselves with. He also partly incensed, as he loathed above all things being interrupted.
He wasted no time in assuming command from his champions, striding to the edge of the dias, now solid and silent once more. "ASSUME BATTLE STATIONS, AND PREPARE FOR COMBAT!" His legion roared with glee as they poured out, and those whose place of duty was at the bridge itself rushing to their places. Without much preamble the Ork fleet jumped into view, evenly matched with his own.
"HAIL THE KAPTAIN. I WOULD SEE HIS FACE BEFORE IT IS SEARED OFF BY OUR WARPFYRE CANNONS."
The bridge obliged and the screen crackled and seethed before the blurry image of the ork Kaptain filled the display, "Ahhh, so if it izn't tha spikey warboss 'imself! 'Is time my kruzas will rip roight through ya puny spoikey defencez!" Thodos chuckled, amused, folding his arms behind his back, "YOU ASSUME MUCH, MY GREEN SKINNED FREIND. I WONDER IF THIS FIREPOWER SUPERIORITY YOU CLAIM TO POSSESS WILL HELP YOU AGAINST THIS!" He cut the transmission with a dismissive wave of his hand and the display then filled with the faces of the captains of his other ships, all confirming their positions. A perfect flanking maneuver.
He would have grinned, had he a face, and addressed his fleet, sweeping his arm towards the approaching xenos fleet, talons closing together and metal flowing across his arm to form a commanding blade, wreathed in crimson, crackling warp flame. As he did so he ushered a single command.
"CHIMERAS; ATTACK!"
Untitled[edit]
Thodos sat upon his throne of steel and iron, shifting and writhing against his opened back, his eyes closed in therapeutic bliss, the throne around him drenched in his black, ichorous blood. The blast battle was...a pyrrhic victory at most...a near defeat, realistically speaking. The Hawk Lords had taken them by surprise, their sudden appearance on the battlefield an unexpected factor in the equation. Next time the Sorcerer coven would be consulted, unreliable though their predictions may be, it would be better than being blindsided again.
His legion was called upon by a budding Tzeentchian cult, The Azure Path, flowering within the Hive World of Palatus V. They were called upon in full to deal with the overly competent PDF and orbiting fleet. They had paid in a few billion Imperial Thrones and promises of soldiers and wizards to add to the Chimeras and the Legion cult, enough to buy their support in the Campaign. Thodos oversaw the invasion of the world personally, always preferring to oversee the induction of fresh blood into the legion personally whenever convenient. The seeding of the hives went rather seamlessly, the Chimeric cult having rendezvoused with the Azure Path planet wide after stowing away on arriving ships, or shipped in bulk on falsified Imperial ships bearing "goods", all the pieces being moved into position.
Then the attacks commenced. Chaos spawn let loose in spires, virus bombings in hab blocks, mutagens seeded into the air ducts and water supply, daemons summoned in manufactorums. Chaos and pandemonium throughout the planet, the PDF caught off guard and the left reeling. It didn't take long for the orbital defences to come into play, whole hive burning in the warm embrace of thermonuclear fire. This is when the Chimeric fleet came into play. They spilled out of the warp, tearing into the PDF fleet like lions in a pig pen. They swooped down into the planet, decimating the PDF, deploying marines to support their soldiers below.
The PDF was all but routed, the Chimera Legion prepping the Azure Path for extraction on their ships with a path straight to Sortiarius, to deliver them to the Thousand Sons. A strong contingent of the PDF remained in the few hives left standing, the Chimeras forced to return to their siege warfare roots. They had already forced a dozen hives into surrender before the Hawk Lords swooped down upon the planet. Six Talon wings, Two Companies, and enough Ships to rebuff the Chimeric fleet.
Thodos made planetfall. The situation was now under his direct supervision. He knew that the Hawk Lords had aerial superiority over his legion. Their skill with a Thunderhawk and Battle Barge was something that had to be respected. He ordered the Legion to assure the extraction of their employers, and half the fleet to escape to the warp. He retained a enough marines and his fastest ships to assist in his last stand to protect his retreating force.
Thodos understood his best bet was to take away the Hawk Lord's power, so he entrenched his forces deep into the hives and under hives, forcing their Thunderhawks into the hives for insertion. Right into their dooms. The thunderhawks would be set upon by crossing lanes of fire, Helldrakes swooping down from spire tops, forcing them to ground. Thodos himself having shot down and snatched down a few Thunderhawks of his own, ripping open cockpits and searing Loyalist fools in crimson warp flame.
But eventually the defensive began to fall, Thodos being forced to lead brazen assaults alongside spawn just to maintain what little ground they had. In orbit his fleet would harry the Astartes, then run with just enough space behind them to allow the fleet to give chase, returning to attack whenever they pressed against their escaping comrades. It worked long enough for the Chimeras to see their charges off to safety, but it left Thodos and his men stranded on Palatus with their fleet on the other side of the planet.
The Hawk Lords learned to respect Thodos, perhaps even fear him. He was craftier than they anticipated, and they had to adapt to weasel the Chimeras out of their tunnels and urban grottos. The Astartes fleet broke off hit and run engagements with the traitor ships to regroup with the ground forces. When the Traitors would not come out of their holes to run to another possible extraction point the Hawk Lords would meet them with orbital bombardment. When the Chimeras fled back into a hive they would greet them with torrents of promethium and missile fire. The Chimeras were trapped on the hive world. While their mission was complete, some of Thodos' best men were trapped on the planet with him and he wasn't going to see them waste away on this rock.
He devised a plan, foolhardy, brash, and amazingly stupid, but it would see most of his men off the planet. He sent a single transmission to the enemy. A challenge, a demand.
I AM THODOS THE IRONBRINGER. TERROR IS MY NAME, DOOM MY RIGHT HAND AND FEAR MY LEFT. I AM THE CHIMERA INCARNATE. WOULD YOU FOLD YOUR WINGS AND FACE ME LIKE AN ASTARTES OR CONTINUE TO TWEET HARMLESSLY AT US LIKE FATTENED PIGEONS?
He sent a message, and a set of coordinates. And in case they didn't receive the message, Thodos set a whole hive slope ablaze with his Legion's icon set within a chaos star. Thodos and thirteen of his most steadfast warriors stood with him on the slopes of that burning hive and waited for the Hawk Lords to answer the call.
He was greeted of course with a salvo of missiles from swooping thunderhawks and descending battle barges.
Thodos was driven into the hive, his warriors blasted apart, hive spires sent crashing away, the city's foundations shaken. Thodos lay in imperial rubble, his body shredded by the force. He heard the thunderhawks circling the hive, closing in for the kill. His mind drifted back to Terra...shrapnel sticking in his side, Daemons hopping over his prone form before some one picked him back up, he couldn't tell who, and put a bolter back in his hands...Palatus V rushing back at him, his body slowly snaking back together, strands of living metal and warped flesh glueing back together, turning into a familiar shape. Black ichor leaked from his plates and sinuous skin. How much longer would he would be able to fight before being banished to the warp he had no idea, but this corporeal form was running its course.
He clambered out of the ruble and fire, out of the abandoned imperial cesspit to meet the cowardly Astartes head on. He stood out on the ragged impact hole, arms outstretched, an approximation of a wild grin on his fanged, grilled face.
WOULD YOU NOT LOCK BLADES WITH ME, O' PIGEON LORDS? OR HAVE YOU SPENT SUCH TIME IN THE AIR THAT YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN YOUR FEET?
He was pelted with bolter fire from a landing gunship. He smashed his fore arms together, forming a warped aegis of metal and bone. The force of the barrage pushed him into the dirt, chipping away his body. When the dust cleared, the gunship had landed. Thodos had risen to his feet, flicking his wrist, a wicked blade snaking from it,
AH, SO YOU HAVE FINALLY FOUND THE COURAGE OF YOUR ULTRAMARINE FATHERS. I WOULD IMAGINE IT WAS QUITE THE UNDERTAKING.
The gangway fell and from the depths of the gunship strided a noble Hawk Lord captain and his attendant Honour Guard. He raised his blade, a crackling relic.
You would distract us with this profane display, Daemon?
OF COURSE. I AM IMPRESSED I COULD YOUR ATTENTION FOR SO LONG, YOUNG MARINE.
Ha! My brothers are already closing in on your heretic minions. Your reign ends here, monster.
This was of course, what he was counting on. A distraction just long enough to pull his ship from the void. On the other side of the planet a Hawk lord battle barge drifted in on a lonely plainsland hive to crush less than a hundred marines, an easy enough task had the wicked blade of the Pride of Thodos had not ripped itself free of the warp, pelting the barge with hideous lance fire. The barge had no choice to flee or face destruction. The cavalry had arrived for the Chimeras. Thodos felt his men board his ship, the very blade of his will, and bid the crew regroup with the rest of the fleet. The crew entered missives and pleas for their master to return to the ship on the consoles, Thodos ignored them and jettisoned the ship back into the Warp. He dearly hoped that would be the last time the bridge questioned him, least he be forced to enforce some discipline amongst the ship. Thodos had one left item to attend to.
THOSE WERE GOOD MARINES YOU SILENCED WITH THOSE CANNONS, CAPTAIN. WAS YOUR DENYING THEM THE CHANCE TO LOCK BLADES WITH YOUR GUARD COWARDICE OR SPITE, I WONDER?
Cowardice? I wouldn't expect humour from your wretched kind, Iron Warrior.
Thodos paced around them, his warp tainted blood slicking his steps, his roaring blade dragging behind him. He chuckled, slowly.
AH YES. THE LEGENDARY ULTRAMARINE COURAGE. TELL ME, LITTLE BIRD, WHERE YOUR FOREFATHERS WHERE WHEN I RAPED HOLY TERRA? WHERE WAS THE SHINING AZURE BANNERS OF MACRAGGE ATOP THE WALLS OF TERRA WHEN I TORE OUT THEIR MORTAR AND STONE? WHERE WAS GUILLIMAN WHEN THE BEST OF MEN ON BOTH SIDES FOUGHT AND DIED OVER A FALSE THRONE THAT NOW SITS YOUR CRIPPLE GOD?
DON'T LECTURE ME ON ME COWARDICE, LITTLE BIRD, FOR I HAVE SEEN TRUE BRAVERY. AND THE RETORTS OF YOUR GUNSHIPS ARE NOT IT.
This earned Thodos a chorus of singing Hawk Lord blades freed from their sheaths.
I will converse with you no longer, wretched thing. Join your brethren in the warp, creature!
The Honour Guard charged him, spears and charged behind bolter fire, as Thodos roared, rushing to meet them. As his thunderous steps shook the rubble Thodos heard the shrieking cry of ordinance. Thodos rolled back, his clawed talon dragging against the ground, stopping his momentum with an awful howl. From the corner of his eye he saw a brave Chimera Marine with smoking mortar tube in hand. He locked eyes with his lord, and Thodos saw that he was nothing but gristle and dragging, burst organs from below his chest. The marine offered a weak salute and Thodos saw a mutated, fanged smile framed by mechanical mandibles through a shattered helmet. Thodos saluted back as the marine spewed blood from his crooked mouth before laying still, dead.
Thodos stood, his blade twisting into a thick cannon roiling with chaotic fire. These young, cowardly, doves deserved nothing more than being roasted inside their armour and cracked open like shell fish. He strode forward, blasting the scattered honour guard. Purple armor and gold cloth shooting into the air in ragged bits. He shot them like dogs, silently, furiously. The captain managed to regain his footing and rushed Thodos. The Prince's taloned claw became a flaming sword and locked blades with the captain. Thodos snarled, pressing his immense weight down on the straining Astartes.
CAN I TELL YOU A SECRET, LITTLE BIRD.
He raised his cannon'd arm above his blade, and placed the barrel next to the loyalist's helmet, his bladed tongue slipping in between his fanged grill
A SECRET THAT NOT EVEN YOUR PROUD HERITAGE KNOWS.
The captain pushed back, skidding back and parrying the cannon away. Thodos stepped forward and kneed him in his diminutive side, sending him flying into the rubble. Thodos skewered a charred guard upon the tip of his blade and flung it at the captain, sending him back to the ground with a solid crack.
YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT TERRA WAS LIKE? IT WAS LIKE THIS, MARINE.
The captain rolled to his feet, drawing a plasma pistol from his side, charging the shot before sending the screaming blue ball into Thodos' chest. Thodos screamed in pain, the shout sliding into a defiant laugh of exhilaration.
IT LOOKED NOTHING LIKE THIS, OF COURSE. EVERYTHING WAS GOLD ON TERRA, GILDED STONE AND PLASTEEL AS FAR AS THE EYE COULD SEE.
The captain wrenched the spear from the nearest guard's dead grip and hurled it at Thodos catching him in the knee. Thodos swept down with his blade and broke of the shaft, snarling as the captain picked up his blade once more and charged the Prince again. Thodos slashed horizontally, attempting to bisect him, but the Hawk Lord dodged under the blade jumping up and stabbing him in the gut. The flesh wrapped around the blade.
BUT THE SMELL, LITTLE BIRD. TIS THE EXACT SAME AS BURNING TERRA. BREATHE IT DEEPLY. IT IS ONE YOUR KIND WOULD NEVER KNOW.
The captain yelled triumphantly, as the circling Thunderhawks finally reunited with their captain. They bellowed their armaments, shredding his weapon studded back. This only served to annoy him, as Thodos hated, above all things, being interrupted. Thodos seethed with rage, as his skin began to shift and roil. His body couldn't take much more before his soul is sent screaming back into the Warp for however long it takes to put back together his corporeal form. And that's more time than he could reasonably allow to pass without contact with his Legion. For moments like this there is but one remedy, a maneuver he liked to call, "The Last Laugh".
Over time Thodos had learned much about his own Princedom, including one trend that he has learned dearly. The time it takes him to reform is greatly reduced when its on his own terms. So over time, as he's collected trophies of past conflicts upon his back he's learned to use them to great effect. His natural armament is much weakened when his body is sundered. But his collection isn't his body. Not at all.
The captain snarled, shoving the plasma pistol in his gut, the weapon squealing to life.
Die, Daemon.
BAHAHAHAHA!
Die, DAEMON! BE SILENT AND GONE!
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Thodos' body swelled, swirled, ancient weapons bristling out from his body like spines.
RETURN TO THE WARP, FOU-
Thodos burst in a roiling ball of crimson warp fire, thunder hammers, power swords, grenades, Daemon swords, all manner of ancient weaponry rocketed at the twin thunderhawks ripping him to shreds, sundering their cock pits, damning them to the sundered, scorched, earth. The captain himself finding his charred head stuck on jagged rebar after his own sword returned to his neck.
Thodos returned from his reverie to the harsh unreality of his citadel in warp space, his throne drenched in his own daemonic blood...