Editing Rogal Dorn (section)

==Who is Dorn?== 
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''From the B&C forums''

I like the Imperial Fists and Rogal Dorn, although they haven't gotten much attention from the Heresy books. But, I like the idea of Dorn and his Legion. I like what I've read about them, and the image I have in my mind.

There was a post in the thread that said the Fists were boring, and Dorn was a jerk. It's not an uncommon sentiment and, while everyone is entitled to their reasons, I'd like to talk about mine. Been wanting to write something like this for a while, and this seems like a good excuse.
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I guess you could say the Imperial Fists are boring. They're boring in the same way that a family man who works a 9-5 salary job every day is boring. He gets up early and goes to work like clockwork, and while he's there he works hard. A quiet worker. You don't hear much from him, unless it's related to something you need his help with or vice-versa. He puts in a lot of hours, he doesn't take many sick days or vacation days, and he never complains. He doesn't demand a raise, but he takes one when offered if he feels he earned it. He accepts gratitude and acknowledges it, but he does not expect it. He likes the work he does, he enjoys it, it gives him purpose. To his coworkers, he comes off as cold and distant. You never see him shooting the breeze at the water cooler, he's not on the company softball team, he doesn't come to the after-work parties. But he's not aloof, he doesn't think he's better than anyone. He's just busy. The boss gives him a lot of work to do, and he keeps at it until it's done. And he's doing work for others, too, because he has an unbreakable will to complete his projects. Where others throw up their hands in surrender, where others say it can't be done, he finds a way. It's not always a pretty solution, or an elegant one, but he will get it done because that's what he does.

When he goes home, he spends time with his family. He loves his sons. He works as hard with them as he does for his boss. He teaches them how to be good men, how to succeed in life, to never stop trying until you find a way to get it done. Never give in, never surrender, never stop fighting for what you believe in. As cold as he is at work, he opens up when he's with his sons. Not too much, because they crave an authority figure, but he cares deeply for them. He helps them how he can, imparts all his wisdom. He has high expectations of them, but he doesn't need to point out their failures. His sons know full well their weaknesses, and they are harder on themselves than he could ever be. They're just like him, in that way. Then he gets up the next morning, and does it all again.

To his coworkers, to his neighbors, to you he is boring and dull. To his boss, he's the man you can count on, rely on, depend upon to do any job you ask him. Even if he doesn't know how, he'll figure it out. To his sons, he's an inspiration, a loving father, an immovable foundation for their lives. To them, he's anything but boring.

It's unfortunate that the Imperial Fists are known only for their siege warfare, because they were good at so many other things. They were just as fierce in close combat, boarding actions, armor assaults and drop pod formations as anyone else. But not all combat can be glorious. War sometimes requires dirty, grueling work. The other Legions thought it beneath them that it should be left to lesser beings. But Dorn would never ask someone to do something he, himself, would not. So when the siege work and grinding urban warfare came to him, as it inevitably did, he accepted it. Dorn was happy to do whatever his father, the Emperor, and the Imperium needed him to do. He was just happy to do his father's work, as were the Imperial Fists. They would have been content to mop floors and wash windows, if that's what was needed of them. They welcomed the burden of duty.

There was another Legion that was similar, of course. Perturabo and the Iron Warriors were also known as siege specialists and urban combatants. They, too, willingly fed themselves into that vicious meatgrinder where others would not. But Perturabo did not do it for duty, or for loyalty; he did it searching for glory. He thought that taking the jobs no one else would do would bring him glory and favor. But when it didn't come, his heart grew bitter. Unlike his brother, he expected gratitude. He felt ignored, cheated, denied, forgotten. This was why he and Dorn bickered. For while Dorn may not have often smiled, neither did he frown. He simply did what was asked, with his jaw set to the task, unable to smile and laugh at the most recent victory because his mind was already turned to the things that needed to be done and those things that could have been done better. Dorn thought his brother should have been happy to serve the Emperor's will, as Dorn was himself. He did not understand why Perturabo felt he needed more.

Dorn was many things, but a glib speaker was not one of them. He loved his brothers dearly, and the only thing he loved more than his brothers were the Emperor and the Imperium. Rogal was the sort of man that knows what he wants to say, but has difficulties expressing his thoughts the way he wants to. He always admired Horus and Sanguinius for their speaking ability and charisma. It was this inability to express himself, and a perspective that was stubbornly rooted in his own place, that caused friction amongst his fellow Primarchs, as well as ruling him out as a potential Warmaster. He never meant to quarrel with Perturabo, for there was a deep kinship there, but Dorn could not understand that, for some, duty was just not enough. When he said the Imperial Palace could withstand an Iron Warrior attack, he meant it as a general who was defending a structure he, himself, had built. Dorn would have greater insight than Perturabo into the layout, its strengths, its weaknesses. If Perturabo had built it, Dorn would have said he could not take it for the same reasons. But his brother had already taken insult, and it cut deeply that Dorn had inadvertently hurt his brother so.

He had a similar problem with Konrad. Dorn knew his brother had led a difficult life prior to being found by the Emperor, and he knew the Night Haunter was deeply troubled. Rogal did not pity him, because pity is reserved for those things seen as lesser than yourself and Dorn did not see himself as superior to anyone--especially not his brothers. But he did care for Konrad in his own way, and hoped his brother would find peace for his troubled mind. When Fulgrim shared Konrad's disturbing vision, he did not intend to fight with him. Dorn was wounded that Konrad would think so little of the Emperor, who was the only being Dorn loved more than his brothers (Konrad included). He only wanted to remind Konrad that the Emperor loved them, that He would never do such things. Dorn wanted to say he was sure Konrad's visions were horrifying, but that did not make them true and the Haunter should know the difference. But, Dorn could not express himself that way. He came across as accusatory, aggressive, hateful. It came as a complete shock when Konrad attacked him and, as with Perturabo, Dorn would look back at his words and actions with a heart full of regret. If only he had his brothers' way with words, he would have known the right thing to say.

But, Dorn was a soldier first, foremost and always. While his brothers pursued other things like art, governing, crafting, magic, religion, Dorn focused on being a warrior and a general. In his mind, that was what the Emperor needed them to be at that time. Books, politicking, forges and statues would not reconquer the galaxy. This was a sticking point between himself and Guilliman, though the two otherwise got along well. Guilliman liked to argue they could not be soldiers forever. When peace came, they would have to be leaders. What Dorn saw was his brother putting his cart before the horse. Peace had not yet been won. Humans still existed in darkness beyond the Imperium's light. Aliens continued to defy Mankind's destiny. There would come a time for Astartes to do other things, to be other things, but this was not that time. Now they needed to go forth and conquer, with minds free of other pursuits that would only cloud their judgment. As much as anything else, fixating on the need to conquer and secure the Galaxy kept Dorn free from troublesome questions about his nature and potential; questions that frightened him, although he's only known to have admitted this to Garviel Loken. It was a problem with Lorgar as well. Dorn understood Aurelian's love and devotion to the Emperor, for he shared it as deeply, but Lorgar's worship went contrary to their father's wishes. And Dorn put his father's wishes above everyone's. Including his brothers'. Including his own.

I've talked a lot about Dorn's good sides, but he wasn't perfect and he would have been the first to admit it. He had his pride, his honor, his narrow focus, his stubborn nature, his serious demeanor that put distance between him and his brothers. Rogal knew these things for he was more aware of his faults than anyone else. That was why he made the Pain Glove, to purge the weakness from him even when that weakness was imagined.

I hear a lot of people talk about Dorn being "emo", and it's difficult for people who haven't punished themselves to understand. Those with a history of self-harm, I think, can relate well to Dorn's mentality (I want to pause long enough to say you should not harm yourself. You are a way cool person. If you feel the need to hurt yourself, talk to someone about it. This is going to sound like glorifying the act, which I am, but in the context of understanding a fictional character. Don't self-harm, please). Pain can be a purifying thing, a tool to focus the mind, to strengthen the spirit and a way to ensure you won't make the same mistake again. Cultures today are filled with these ideas. We spank children because pain is the ultimate teacher. We say things like "No pain, no gain" and "Pain is the feeling of weakness leaving the body". Movies glorify characters who are shot, stabbed, break bones and dislocate joints yet grit their teeth and carry on to save the day. We brag about having a high pain tolerance and, like alcohol tolerance, there is only one way to build it. You must drink deep, and often.

Besides, how else could Dorn and his Fists punish themselves? They are Astartes, they own no possessions to take away. They have no privileges to revoke. You can't ground them from fighting because that's the entire reason they were made. You can't kill them because that's wasting the Emperor's resources. You can't physically wound them because they must be in peak condition to wage war. But Dorn found a way to inflict pain without damage, because an Astartes or Primarch damaging their flesh is spitting in the face of the Emperor to whom their body belongs.

Think about this: Imperial Fists willingly go into the Pain Glove for every mistake they make, real or imagined. The Pain Glove is said to feel like your entire body is submerged in liquid fire. And they do this to themselves, for minutes at a time, up to an hour. Can you imagine wearing napalm for an hour, willingly? Can you imagine doing it for a minute? Ten seconds? That's why the Imperial Fists are impossible to break, because there is no pain you can inflict upon them that is greater than that which they inflict upon themselves. As the Joker says in Dark Knight, "You have nothing to threaten me with".

One more thing I'd like to discuss, and then I'll be finished with this lengthy monologue.

The Iron Cage is something you hear a lot about, if you're a fan of Dorn or the Imperial Fists. It will inevitably be discussed. "Dorn was being an emo jerk", "The Ultramarines saved their butts", "The Iron Warriors tricked them because the center was a shooting gallery", "The Imperial Fists and Dorn would have been wiped out if Perturabo wasn't too busy gloating", "Dorn went crazy and forced his Legion into a meatgrinder they never recovered from".

I hope I've helped explain who Rogal Dorn was, because to understand why the Iron Cage happened you have to understand Dorn. It wasn't a pleasant time in his life. It was his absolute lowest point. He alone saw what Horus became in the he end, and lived to tell of it - he understood better than anyone how far the Imperium's greatest hero had fallen. Half his brothers had betrayed the Imperium, and it was Dorn that retrieved fallen Sanguinius, a brother he loved and admired, and the mortally wounded Emperor. His father, who he loved most. It was Dorn that heard his last words, who carried out his final wishes. Dorn, who loved the Emperor more than any other Primarch, had to carry the burden of his father's shattered body to the tomb of the Golden Throne. And with it, he knew, he was entombing his father's vision of the Imperium. It weighed heavily upon him, and Dorn blamed himself for it. Even though it wasn't his fault, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, even though no one could have changed the outcome, he blamed himself. He took that burden upon himself, because he was used to carrying burdens. Dorn's shoulders were broad, and the Imperium rested well upon them. That raised eagle above his armor was far more than decoration; in his mind, he and his Legion shouldered the responsibility of fulfilling the Emperor's vision. He carried the Imperium on his shoulders, as did the Imperial Fists, and they could only blame themselves as they began to pick up the pieces.

Dorn knew what the Iron Cage was because, while he had faults, being stupid was not one of them. He knew it was a trap; that it was a battle that could not be won--it could only be endured. It was a Pain Glove for himself and the Fists. You don't go into the Glove to win. It's not something you can beat. It is an act of atonement, of purification.

It can only be endured.

Guilliman had convinced the High Lords that the Legions must be broken, that Chapters must be formed from their remains, but the Imperial Fists did not want to separate. It would mean leaving their father, who had been a constant presence in their lives. It would mean throwing the last handful of dirt upon the memory of the Great Crusade. Yet they were given no choice. The Navy had fired upon them. Guilliman had called them traitors. Guilliman, who did not bleed to defend the Imperial Palace. Guilliman, who did not carry the body of the Emperor from that cursed ship. Guilliman, who did not hear the last words of the Emperor and they said nothing of Chapters. Guilliman, who had finally become the politician he yearned to be.

With no other recourse, the Imperial Fists did the only thing they could. They would rather die as Legionnaires than live as something lesser, in their minds, than what the Emperor intended. They went to the Iron Cage without planning, for winning was never the goal of it. Sure, Dorn had said he would bring Perturabo to Terra in an iron cage, but he couldn't make his brothers understand the true reasons. He would have brought Perturabo back if events had transpired that way, but it wasn't why he went.

The Ultramarines didn't save them from anything. The Imperial Fists wanted to suffer, to bleed, to atone for their perceived failure, to die as their beloved Emperor had died. But, the Iron Warriors weren't up to the task. Whether out of fear of the price required, whether out of perverse satisfaction of watching the last battle of their hated Legion rivals (A hatred that was never reciprocated), they could not go through with it. They would have fled before being forced to spend the last of their lives, which would have robbed them of the glory they so desperately wanted, or they would have gotten bored and left. There was no way the Imperial Fists could have won the Iron Cage but, for the same reason, there was no way for them to be beaten. No matter what else you hear, believe this: the Imperial Fists and Dorn were not broken that day. They were reborn, in the way only being submerged in liquid fire for minutes on end can give a man new life. They forgave themselves for the Heresy, and set their minds to new tasks. They readied themselves for new burdens.

For the shoulders of the Imperial Fists are broad, and the Imperium rests well upon them.

Once, I didn't care about Dorn and his Legion. I thought they were dull and boring. But, now, they're my favorite Primarch and Legion. I hope, even if you don't agree, you will understand my reasons.

Additional notes: Dorn was similar to Mortarion in that he tended to keep a lid on his emotions. The only time we see him get angry is when Nathaniel Garro and Iacton Qruze deliver the Heresy news (admittedly he does punch Garro across the room and almost splits him down the middle with his chainsword), and although he vents hard after seeing the proof, it happens in private. There's a nice bit of contrast when he's faced with recordings of Horus' atrocities and left rather shell-shocked.
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