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{{Infobox /tg/-Heresy Primarch
{{Infobox Primarch
|name= Cromwald Walgrun
|name= Cromwald Walgrun
|bgcolor=black
|bgcolor=black
|fgcolor=white
|fgcolor=white
|image=[[File:Cromwald.jpg|225px]]
|image=[[File:Cromwald.jpg|225px]]
|title=
|title=The Lion of Sommesgard
|where=Sommesgard
|where=Sommesgard
|when=c.914.M30
|when=c.914.M30
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|trait=
|trait=
|flaw=
|flaw=
|heresy=Traitor
|role=Traitor
|fate=Daemon Prince of Slaanesh
|fate=Daemon Prince of Slaanesh
|dominion=
|dominion=
}}
}}
{{/tg/-Heresy-Head}}
{{/tg/-Heresy-Head}}
''The Lion pushed himself too far and dared too much in his pursuit of glory and new experiences. When he dashed upon the rocks of self destruction, he turned to the wrong brother for help. Where once was a man of honor and nobility, now only remains a twisted creature who pursues only the most deviant and destructive impulses.''
(Excerpt from Gaspard Lumey's private correspondence.)


Cromwald Walgrun, known as the Lion of Sommesgard, is primarch of legion IX (The [[Lions Rampant]]). A master strategist and gifted orator, he stood as a gentleman and noble soul. His insistence upon the utmost in standards of conduct and dress for himself and his legion made them a famed and vaunted legion in the eyes of the Imperium. This only made his downfall all the greater a loss for the Imperium, as his corruption now sees him as the chosen of Slaanesh, exalted among the followers of the Prince of Excess.
Cromwald Walgrun, known as the Lion of Sommesgard, is primarch of legion IX (The [[Lions Rampant]]). A master strategist and gifted orator, he stood as a gentleman and noble soul. His insistence upon the utmost in standards of conduct and dress for himself and his legion made them a famed and vaunted legion in the eyes of the Imperium. This only made his downfall all the greater a loss for the Imperium, as his corruption now sees him as the chosen of Slaanesh, exalted among the followers of the Prince of Excess.
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===Youth===
===Youth===


The early years of Cromwald were far removed from the lofty heights of a master of armies. From his pod the young primarch lived as an orphan in the pre-industrial streets of Sommesgard, where survival was a matter of wits, charisma and luck. Possessing all three, Cromwald grew rapidly into a shrewd and cunning survivor whose wit and impressive stature gained him the attention and patronage of Captain Edgar Walgrun of the Prathian army. Seeing potential in the young man, he afforded Cromwald the finest education and privilege of wealth and station. Adapting quickly to his newfound luxury, the primarch applied his formidable intellect to lofty ends. He became a patron of the sciences, helping spur a booming revolution of industry in Prathia, which gave it a position of prestige in the politics of Sommesgard. Capitalizing on the wonders wrought by the newly developed technologies, Walgrun sought adventure in both his personal and professional life, leading him to service as a ranking officer in the military. Gifted in battle, Crom's initial victories over rival nations swiftly developed into a long drive of conquest across the face of the world, where his gifts of strategy and oratory claimed a vast empire by diplomacy and the sword alike. He was lauded as a hero, an unmatched general who brought about unification from the scattered and feuding nation-states of Sommesgard. With the world brought together under one banner, peace and prosperity soon followed.
The early years of Cromwald were far removed from the lofty heights of a master of armies. From his pod the young primarch lived as an orphan in the pre-industrial streets of Sommesgard, where survival was a matter of wits, charisma and luck. Possessing all three, Cromwald grew rapidly into a shrewd and cunning survivor whose wit and impressive stature gained him the attention and patronage of Captain Edgar Walgrun of the Prathian army. Seeing potential in the young man, he afforded Cromwald the finest education and privilege of wealth and station. Given his origins, Cromwald plunged headlong into the indulgences of his newfound wealth; he consumed every new experience with a voracious appetite. He glutted himself on books and knowledge, threw himself headlong into the finer trappings of his newfound station, and found a drive to see the world anew with every opportunity to travel and test himself physically and mentally. Quickly Cromwald met the limits of what the world had to offer, and resolved himself to pursue new avenues. If the world could not give him a new adventure, he would make one for himself. He threw the wealth and prestige of the Walgrun name behind countless endeavors, becoming a patron of the sciences that would drive Prathia into an industrial age. With the revolution of automation, new methods of exploration and adventure opened up before him, but as with all things, these new sciences were turned to the purpose of war.
 
Sommesgard was host to regular clashes of nations in the constant shifting of power across the globe. These battles were fought in trenches and columns, with rifle and cannon. The revolution of industry had yet to transform the face of war on Sommesgard, until Prathia began to swell under the surge of raw scientific progress. The armies under her banner were armed with the fruits of the new industry, with engines capable of bearing soldiers over great distances in safety, and weapons of terrible power compared to the rifles of old. As with the sciences, Cromwald became a patron of the military. His education included extensive training in strategy and military history, and he took well to the lessons of exercising force on a national level. He became a pioneer of the new orders of battle, personally sponsoring and testing armored vehicles and mighty weapons in the crucible of combat against Prathia's neighbors.
 
Though gifted in battle, the true measure of Cromwald's genius as a general came with his boldness, his willingness to bring untested methods and engines to the front lines and apply them with stunning results. Under his command the first divisions of armored tanks rolled across the enemy lines in an unstoppable wave, while infantry clashed with aggressive strategies that relied of steely nerves and daring bravado to seize the initiative. Those nations unswayed by the boisterous oratory of the newly minted Field Marshal Walgrun fell swiftly to his relentless pursuit of global unification under one banner. Though he never claimed ambitions to rule, none would deny that when the final battle ended and the world was made as one, the prosperity to follow was the work of his hands.


A full decade of technological and social advancement followed, interrupted abruptly by the annihilation of the old state of Berau. Once a center for industry, Berau was wiped from the face of the earth by a monstrous meteor impact. The first rock fell directly into the city center, and soon after waves of other, lesser meteors crashed into Sommesgard in a hail of destruction. From these rocks poured forth a violent tide of barbarian greenskins, a foe unlike anything the people of Sommesgard had ever known. The ensuing war was savage, as the initial wave of orks overran a full half of the planet unchecked with their fury and superior engines of war. Cromwald, the unmatched and unbeatable general saw victory wherever he made a stand, but across the rest of Sommesgard losses were catastrophic in the face of terrifying walkers and steel behemoths. At the heart of it all rose a foul effigy to the Orky gods; a stompa constructed by the big mek leading the green tide. In a desperate bid to break the advancing horde, Cromwald led an armored spearhead against the titanic war machine, but found himself nearly annihilated alongside his vehicle under the massive guns of the stompa. With his right arm obliterated in the blast, he was forced to board the stompa and fight his way to the mek bare handed and injured, with only his innate inhuman physiology sustaining him. He broke the ork morale with the defeat of the big mek, and claimed a crude bionik arm as a trophy to replace the limb he had lost.
A full decade of technological and social advancement followed, interrupted abruptly by the annihilation of the old state of Berau. Once a center for industry, Berau was wiped from the face of the earth by a monstrous meteor impact. The first rock fell directly into the city center, and soon after waves of other, lesser meteors crashed into Sommesgard in a hail of destruction. From these rocks poured forth a violent tide of barbarian greenskins, a foe unlike anything the people of Sommesgard had ever known. The ensuing war was savage, as the initial wave of orks overran a full half of the planet unchecked with their fury and superior engines of war. Cromwald, the unmatched and unbeatable general saw victory wherever he made a stand, but across the rest of Sommesgard losses were catastrophic in the face of terrifying walkers and steel behemoths. At the heart of it all rose a foul effigy to the Orky gods; a stompa constructed by the big mek leading the green tide. In a desperate bid to break the advancing horde, Cromwald led an armored spearhead against the titanic war machine, but found himself nearly annihilated alongside his vehicle under the massive guns of the stompa. With his right arm obliterated in the blast, he was forced to board the stompa and fight his way to the mek bare handed and injured, with only his innate inhuman physiology sustaining him. He broke the ork morale with the defeat of the big mek, and claimed a crude bionik arm as a trophy to replace the limb he had lost.
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===The Great Crusade===
===The Great Crusade===


Cromwald's legion had long fought ingloriously and forgotten among their brethren. The restoration of their primarch was the first step of many to change this fate; he set about redefining the nature of the IX legion immediately. He addressed the whole of his legion, massed on the fields of Berau in formation and watching from orbit above. To these men he delivered a firebrand speech of his heritage, of the victories he had achieved, and of the birthright that they carried in their gene-seed and their souls. No longer would they be known as mere raiders, preying on the enemies of man as carrion birds in the wake of their betters. They would become as lions, roaring their name unto the blackness of space and striding forth with pride to claim their place among the stars. All would hear the lion's roar and would submit, or they would face the kings of war on the field of battle. It was thus that the Lions Rampant were remade on the fields that had been so bitterly contested for so very long.
Cromwald Walgrun, Lion of Prathia and Field Marshal of the armies of Sommesgard was the final primarch to be discovered during the Great Crusade. The reunion between Emperor and primarch was a joyous one, for there was much work still to be done, even after so many long years of warfare on a galactic scale. For his part, Cromwald viewed the Emperor's charge of conquest as a brilliant new means to explore and adventure beyond the domains of his homeworld; his acceptance of his role in the Crusade was wholly without reservation. In celebration, master artisans among the remembrancer order were commissioned to restore the glories of Berau, which would become the new seat of Legion IX's administration. Alongside the reconstruction of the devastated city came a symbolic gesture from the Mechanicum. Gifted to Cromwald was a bionic arm crafted by the greatest tech adepts the expeditionary fleet possessed. The new limb was peerless in design and shone with a magnificent platinum luster that could not be dulled. Leaving behind his crude graft as a trophy of victory, the Lion of Prathia ascended to meet his gene-children whole once more.


The process of remaking his legion was not so simple as speeches and bluster. Cromwald himself was faced with change; the Emperor had embraced his son, but he had found him wanting. For all his brilliance as a general and leader, the Lion was a man of many vices. Chemicals, drugs, perversions...these things ate at the moral fiber of the primarch. No longer could he merely partake discreetly and brush aside any inkling of scandal. He would be faced with a very real change in his ways, to mirror the dramatic reversal of his legions methods of war. The first year of his stewardship of legion IX was marked with prolonged transition and extensive training. The advances of the legion in the crusade had all but halted as the command infrastructure was rebuilt from the ground up. Officers were trained by the primarch personally in strategy and diplomacy, and in turn their new lessons were taken to the lower ranks. It wasn't until five long years of constant drilling, wargaming, and reorganization that Cromwald deemed his lions fit for the hunt.
The reunion between Primarch and legion would be met with far less adulation and praise. The Highland Raiders were a dirty, inglorious rabble, wholly unlike the noble ideal of Astartes Cromwald had envisioned. Their assembled strength consisted of a somber, joyless lot shod in dull grey. No heraldry or banners depicted honors or glory in their ranks. To a celebrated conqueror such as Cromwald, it was an insult to his genetic legacy that his men be so utterly without pride in themselves or their accomplishments.


Upon returning to the campaign, the newly christened Lions Rampant were an untested force. Carefully they chose their initial targets, picking worlds that would offer a suitable test of the new drill and doctrine. Initial successes against rogue human elements on a handful of lesser worlds saw them grow bold; those that did not accept terms of parlay had been invaded in brilliant campaigns that systematically overwhelmed the defenders. Skeptics within the legion were finding their fears baseless in the wake of the smooth operation of the newly minted command structure.
Five years were spent restructuring his legion and injecting fresh blood into their ranks. The nature of the newly christened Lions would swiftly change to reflect the dynamic leadership of their primarch, but such would not end his woes. By the time Cromwald had been reunited with his legion, the crusade was well underway for over a century. He was the last primarch to be discovered, and his brethren all by then had a list of accolades and honors that left him faced with personal inadequacy. His legion's reputation would take time and effort to salvage, for even after they had been reforged many voices would still jeer at the Emperor's dogs, ill fit for the glories other, more capable legions garnered. Cromwald seethed quietly for his damaged pride, as each slight against his gene-sons was an insult to his daring leadership and peerless abilities. In this respect, he became a driven man; his honor demanded that the Lions earn their place as heroes of the Crusade. No number of victories would satisfy his need to prove his worth, nor would any accolade ease his need to be the greatest among his brethren.


The true test of the legion's strategic worth would come on the blighted world of Yupsis, where the indigenous human population were enslaved by a technologically advanced xeno race. Paired with a detachment of the Mastondontii, the Lions made planetfall with mind to liberate the planet. On the great plains the armored fist of the Mastodontii clashed with strange alien armor. Though a company of vanquisher equipped predators from the Lions joined their brethren, the legion's full strength was committed elsewhere. Relying on the might of the steel wall blasting across the plains to draw attention, a series of rapid strikes to the enemy rear lines were executed to assess and hinder enemy strength. Pressed with a second assault from the rear, the aliens redeployed and shifted tactics to a more defensive posture. They halted the armored push into their front, but could not prevent themselves from being outflanked. The Lions were always one step ahead, turning the xeno counter push into an overstretched initiative. The aliens were swiftly losing ground, and when their doomed effort to reclaim lost gains struck it was shattered between the Lions precise deployment and the immovable anvil of Mastodontii steel. This first battle set the tempo of the war, as it was repeated time and again. The combination of the Mastodontii's strength and the Lions tenacity liberated city after city, which only added more fuel to the fires. The planet rose up in rebellion against the alien masters, and they were put to the sword to the very last. After the battle, before the fires had burnt out Cromwald invited the officers involved in the campaign to a celebratory toast. Here he praised Tollund before the whole assemblage, proclaiming a respect for the superb marshaling of their armored forces.
Naked ambition would serve to sour relations between Cromwald and several of his brothers. He would cross words with his more refined kin with some regularity, as his differing worldview and brazen attitude to life matched poorly with more reserved or jaded primarchs. Similarly, his pride in his pedigree would alienate others further; he viewed the less refined of his kinsmen as a tragic waste of potential. Such an attitude, matched by patronizing words left Cromwald with cold relations to several brothers.


As the crusade ground onward, Cromwald had the chance to meet most of his brothers both professionally and personally. To him, his fellow primarchs were a class of soul that mirrored his own. Each was a leader of men and a master of whole worlds. Though some were crass, distasteful or "downright ungentlemanly", he was cordial especially to his brothers to which he had taken a disliking towards. It was his way to show hospitality and courtesy even in the face of one's rivals and enemies, and so it was with the likes of Nathanog, [[Gaspard Lumey]], and several others among his kin.
Only in the company of other gentlemen did his sometimes abrasive demeanor ease. Above all others, Roman Albrecht could instill humility and fraternity in Cromwald. In each other's company pride became a matter of sport, and consequently camaraderie grew between the Steel Marshals and the Lions Rampant to reflect the close knit friendship of their masters. The even temperament of the noble Albrecht for a time would bring peace to Cromwald, tempering his ambition with a degree of patience he would otherwise have lacked.


While his haughty demeanor has alienated some of his fellow primarchs, others accepted him for the gentleman he was. To those who could abide his nature he was a fast friend, welcoming whenever the vicissitudes of fate would allow a pause in conquest to engage in more pleasant matters of recreation and sport. Often he would enjoy fencing with the likes of [[Roman Albrecht]], who he found to be a kindred spirit, or indulging in debate over a regicide board with [[Uriel Starikov]]. They became his two closest compatriots. With them, it was as it had been living as an aristocrat of Prathia; his craving for socialization with peers of his standing matched well with their demeanors.
===The Hektor Heresy===


It was in this way that Cromwald formed a rapport among the men that would define his career. Advice from Uriel helped shape the command and intelligence infrastructure of the Lions Rampant, allowing the Primarch to better see the strategic scope of the battlefield. Roman's honorable Retainers Creed was an exotic taste of virtue that helped to sculpt the ties of loyalty the Lions held to their officers and primarch. Hektor himself helped develop Cromwald's understanding of the advancements in warfare that exceeded by centuries the tactics and engines of destruction that had been the cutting edge of the Prathian Royal Army. To his detractors, the Lions Rampant were the amalgamation of his brothers' legions; never defined by their own virtues but instead aping others. Despite this he persisted, and with the support of his kin Cromwald began to forge his own name among the stars.
===Post-Heresy===


In the waning years of the Great Crusade, an affliction had begun to settle into the primarch of the Lions Rampant. It had begun in almost imperceptible degrees; a twitch here, a passing sense of pins and needles there. His liquor no longer carried the same pleasing bite to it, and his duels with Roman and Uriel had lost the thrill that came from heated swordplay. Initially he had ignored such things to fatigue or a passing anomaly in his otherwise healthy superhuman physique. But as the years turned to decades, the tingling lasted longer. The indulgences of his station left him wanting; his now innocent vices no longer satisfied. It was disconcerting to the Lion, who had lived all his days a life of polite indulgence to mirror his industrious war machine.
After the defeat of the Warmaster, the Lions fled to avoid annihilation. Unlike many of the Traitor Legions, they did not make for the Eye of Terror. Instead they split into divisions and headed for the far rim of the galaxy, on the outskirts of Segmentum Ultima, raiding targets for supplies as opportunity arose to sustain themselves in their flight. They lurked on the edge of the galaxy and waited for the Scouring to slowly burn itself out, laying low and keeping their forces split to avoid being slaughtered all at once.


At first he merely turned to stronger drink to toast his victories, and pressed himself harder in his bouts of swordplay. For a time this sufficed, but he would only be sated but for so long. Within a year his choicest selections were losing their strength. Even the strongest cask strength vintage lacked bite; he would draw glass after glass in the celebrations of his champions only to find the taste to be tepid and bland. Toasts became binges as he hungered for what he knew to be eluding his senses, and he threw himself into his sport to recapture the thrill it had once brought to compete with masters. None questioned this; it seemed from the outside to be a simple case of overindulgence leading to burnout. His council within the legion advised he wait, allow his palate to recover and his mind to clear. In time he would again know the pleasures of a well earned libation.
As the Scouring began to fade, the Lions reorganised their efforts, with the Legion once again falling under the iron fist of their Primarch. He led them to begin raiding and pillaging Imperial worlds across the edges of charted space. At first he did so with near impunity; his warbands landed and conquered in lightning fast strikes that shattered the defender's command structure and crippled their fighting will, then set about the task of rebuilding the world in Slaanesh's name. Those who did not convert were subjugated by those who did.


Cromwald claimed to believe his most trusted men, though doubt gnawed at his mind. He had kept it silent from his brethren, but it was not simply his palate that was failing him. His limbs were growing sluggish and unresponsive. He masked it well, but the trained eyes of Uriel could see the failing coordination of his brother. He inquired to the Lion's health, though Cromwald insisted politely that it was nothing of concern. His excuses would grow feeble, however; no matter how poor the vintage, Uriel knew well that it would take more than rich living to shake the health of a primarch. His expressions of concern incensed Cromwald, whose pride would not hear of being any lesser a man than his peers. Uriel ceased to press the issue, though it meant the friendly games they enjoyed had taken a chilled air about them from that day forward.
The momentum of these raids slowly picked up, until the Lions were no longer a force that could be denied or ignored. A task force consisting of several chapters of Space Marines, numerous Guard regiments, the Inquisition and the young Ministorum descended upon the slowly expanding empire of excess and begin reclaiming it in the Emperor's name. Heretics burned by the billion as the Crusade pressed on, hounding the Lions and bringing them to battle at every turn. The heretics' power was shattered when Cromwald, now a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, was finally cornered and ultimately struck down. With their leader cast back into the warp, the Legion splintered and scattered. Several warbands were annihilated by the vengeful crusaders, but many escaped to scatter across the stars. From there they begin to pursue their own objectives and desires. Some fight their Primarch's war still in his absence, others fell to infighting, others simply wage war for the sake of the carnage and glory of Chaos. Only in the Black Crusades are the Lions brought back together in any meaningful fashion, where they relive a brief throwback to their glories as a Legion.


Desperate to find something to bring life to his remaining flesh, Cromwald began to reluctantly turn to elements of his past. Drinks were laced with narcotics to give them a pleasing edge to revitalize his digits and expand his mind. In the wake of victory he commissioned specialists to soothe his weary frame and knead feeling into his flesh. Delicate hands worked his augmetic flesh, playing his skin and muscle with a skill no servitor could match. The sensual ministrations of his servants reminded his limbs of their lost vitality for a time. But beyond any skillful young thrall or potent concoction, one thing could truly flood his body with life and give him peace from his silent decline. In the roar of battle Cromwald found solace. With increasing regularity he would abandon his central command to spearhead the battle personally. While it came at some cost to his understanding of the grander scale of battle, his skill with strategy saw his legion through almost as well from the hatch of a vanquisher tank as it did from the armored bunker of his headquarters. It was a thrill to relive his conquest of Sommesgard, to be surrounded by the thunder of cannon and the roar of boltgun fire. Through the smoke and destruction of a hundred battles he thrived, though in the quiet hours aboard his flagship he slowly fell into despair for want of a new enemy to engage.
==Personality==
Though bold and boisterous, Cromwald above all prides himself on being a clever man of clearly refined tastes. He demands of himself carriage that befits the pride of his station, and sees his reputation and honor as paramount in importance. This drives him to be something of a renaissance man; to be uninitiated in the many manners by which a man can be measured is to admit himself as a lesser son of the Emperor. Such stubbornness driven by pride only fuels his brazen love for his cultivated, larger than life image of the scholar-adventurer.


Lignis IV was the turning point. A world almost wholly given to great sweeping masses of land, its ragged plains of tatter-grasses and jagged mesas of granite held a bastion of technologically talented xenos dwelling in the ashes of ancient human cities. They fought on strange steel walkers bearing exotic energy weapons, and commanded legions of abhuman thralls bound by chains of steel and psychic might. The Lions Rampant came to the world with promises of vengeance for the degeneration of a once-proud world. Their planetfall and deployment across the steppes of the northern tectonic shelf was unopposed, and their forces mustered swiftly. The whole legion, over 100,000 marines strong, stood poised to make war with the hexapedal Grishnach.
This pride is also his greatest flaw, however. As the last of the primarchs to be found, Cromwald nurses an inferiority complex beneath the bluster and posturing that burns eternally. Beneath the mask of pride lay the need to not only succeed, but to surpass the achievements of his peers. While an excellent driving force, it sometimes drives him to ignore aid when offered, refusing to portray himself or his legion in any light that could be construed as weakness or inability.


From his forward command, Cromwald assessed the reports from his extensive forward reconnaissance elements. He knew the creatures numbers and the limits of their weapons from previous battles on the outlying worlds of the Lignis system. He had seen their sorcery and knew well the variables it had brought to the campaign, and deployed his forces to counter the strengths the aliens possessed. His tanks would outmaneuver their ponderous walkers, and with his superior reach he would wage a rolling battle with mounted infantry and heavy armor alike. The campaign was estimated to last two weeks.
==Appearance==


Within the first days of the war for Lignis the campaign was shaping well. The enemy had been assessed, their assets, strengths, and abilities had been examined and accounted for. Cromwald had issued his orders of battle to his seniormost officers, who in turn saw to their own theaters of war. The machine of destruction had been given life, now he rode to see it consume the enemy in fire and steel. After the gains made by his infantry in claiming the highlands overlooking the field of battle, the Lion marshaled his assets to capitalize on his advantage. He shattered the alien resistance and drove them before him, leaving devastation in his wake.
Cromwald has all the bearing of an aristocrat; he carries himself with confidence and poise as befitting his upbringing and is rarely seen in any state less than perfectly groomed. His charcoal shaded hair is short and neat, as is his well trimmed and maintained mustache. These are framed by prominent cheekbones and a well rounded, ruddy facial structure that lends him a noble, fatherly air. Despite his impressive presence as a primarch, he stands as disarmingly pleasant to look upon. Only his deep set brown eyes suggest anything other than a polite, erudite father figure. They are ever watchful, and have been likened to that of a hawk. No matter how amiable his expression or polite his demeanor, there can be no mistaking that Cromwald is constantly weighing the measure of those in his company.


Five days remained until his estimated victory. The enemy was fighting a desperate bid to hold the line, and Cromwald had outmaneuvered them at each turn.
==Wargear==
The Marshal's Rebuke - Originally a sidearm common to tank crews of Sommesgard, the Rebuke was a break-action pistol extensively modified for use by Cromwald's hand. Further upgraded by the artisans of the Mechanicum, it now sports two monstrous barrels fed with ammunition of an excessively large caliber. This miniature cannon possesses remarkable power and is said to ring clear over the din of battle, no matter how violent the sortie may become.


Reports then began to filter in. Alien warmachines were counterattacking from the highlands. His marines were suffering casualties, as they were faced with foes that had seemed to materialize from the mountains themselves. Armored detachments across the whole theater of war were taking losses from well coordinated strikes from platoons of well armed xeno thralls. The enemy had rallied, reinforced, and redeployed with disturbing speed. Cromwald was forced to abandon his spearhead assault to break the alien line to cover the retreat from the highlands, where he was forced into personal combat when his tank was disabled. Losses were high across the legion, and the Lion found that unless he returned to his headquarters, the sheer volume of data from the sudden reversal would be impossible to coordinate, despite the efforts of his captains and their robust circles of command.
Triumph - The hallmark weapon of the Lion's armored divisions is the cavalry saber, suitably enlarged for use by Astartes. In this tradition Cromwald bears a curved blade of similar make, incorporating a singularly powerful weaponized conversion field that renders armor useless against its shining blade. With short, masterful strokes its wielder can hew through heavily armored foes, making even the battle plate of a tank vulnerable in the face of precise strikes of an expert swordsman.


((More about the assault on his HQ and the breakout action to come. In a nutshell he and his legion will survive because of a last ditch, desperate race on jump packs to blast through a tightening noose. It will mark the first time the legion actively uses mass high-speed assault units, and also give Cromwald both a taste for the rush it brings and firsthand encounters with chaos, even if he doesn't recognize it for what it is just yet))
==A fan's attempt at rules==


The near destruction of the heart of his legion had rattled Cromwald, but it had also given him a taste of what he sorely craved. His heart had raced as he felt the wind whispering in his ears during the breakneck rush into the enemy guns. It had been more than any number of guns or tanks could do to give life to his numbness, and he embraced it wholly. The shift became marked within his legion as his tactics evolved to take advantage of this new rush. Cadres of rapid assault teams were assembled in each company to escort their primarch. No excuse was made for the change in his demeanor; it became well known among the men that he fought alongside only the most bold and brazen of squads when the fighting began. His strategies became more aggressive to ensure the need for such measures, and with each battle he threw himself into the fray with almost reckless abandon. Between these frantic bouts of carnage, he withdrew from his legion. The numbness had almost completely consumed him. His serfs were beaten should their arts fail to stir his flesh, and his earthly delights were spurned for their endless failures. Despair gripped the Lion, whose pride forbid he admit weakness and seek the aid of his brothers. Madness began to settle in as the void taunted him. His indulgent life was nothing more than ashes as he found himself locked in a prison of meat and bone. Only his adamantium arm retained its senses, and he obsessed over it. Behind closed doors, he walked slowly into darkness. Lacking their leader, his legion would soon follow.
{| border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="5" align="left"
! || PTS || WS || BS || S || T || W || I || A || Ld || Sv
|-
| '''Cromwald Walgrun:''' || 410 || 7 || 7 || 6 || 6 || 6 || 7 || 5 || 10 || 2+/4++
|}<br style="clear: both; height: 0px;" /><br>


Ever since the return of their primarch, the Lions Rampant had looked to Cromwald for guidance and leadership. He had been open with his men, making his presence a constant among the ranks of his officers and often directly overseeing the training and progress of his men. With the onset of madness and the seclusion of the primarch, once again the legion was without a master. Promises of his presence on the field spurred many to strive for his blessing in hopes of rejoining their master, but the lapse of his rigid discipline saw a weakening in the ranks. Officers, now accustomed to the revelries and indulgences of their leader began to indulge among their own circles, emulating the primarch they so honored. The men themselves began to train themselves to meet their masters desires; he only appeared to wage war, and only rode with the most bold and daring of assaults. Competition between companies for such an honor became commonplace, as each outfitted themselves more and more with speeders, bikes and jump packs to be the tip of the spear and first to rip into the enemy. The squad that hosted their primarch in battle became exalted by their peers for their modifications to their wargear and the fearless fervor with which they rode into the enemy. The grand strategy of the crusades had begun to collapse in favor of a brilliant yet terrifying application of speed and firepower.
Unit type: Infantry, Independent Character.  


The fateful hour came a scant four years before the outbreak of the heresy. For years now the Lion had dwelled behind sealed doors, emerging only for the rush of battle. In the darkness of his chambers he raged at his fate, cursed the apothecaries for failing him and scorned the galaxy for denying him. His careful self control failed, and in the dark recesses of his mind he heard the whispers of madness gnawing at his soul. All mundane means of restoring his flesh had failed him. His apothecaries had found his nerves shredded and burnt, and the techmarines had found a fault introduced by his bionic arm from maintenance long past responsible. By now it was too late; even a Primarch could only heal but so much. No substance, no skilled hands, no rush or thrill could rouse his senses save for the barest of glimmers from the most extreme of actions. To do more would ravage his body further still, damning him more than he already was.
Wargear: Aldmund's Plate, The Marshal's Rebuke, Triumph.  


Cursing his steel fist yet refusing to part with the only window of feeling to the outside world left, he made a drastic decision. He sought out Aubrey, primarch of the Eternal Zealots. He had always held a respect for Aubrey's skill as a medicae. Naive though his brother was, he was an honorable individual. Swallowing his pride, he would confide in Aubrey alone of his condition and how it vexed him so. The Life Giver listened intently to his brother's plight, asking questions when clarification was needed on symptoms or timeframes. Ultimately his examination found that mere mundane medicine would never suffice from such a catastrophic failure of Cromwald's nervous system. However, there were other means at Aubrey's disposal that may in time restore the Lion's strength. An application of ritual and psychic power could manifest healing where science and medicine could not. The Emperor had forbidden such things at Nikaea, but father's word had never truly stood in the way of his roguish son's vices. Cromwald accepted Aubrey's aid, and found himself at the heart of an arcane incantation woven by Aubrey and his closest acolytes. The warp awoke within Cromwald in the wake of the ritual, and in his mind he began to hear whispers in the guise of his subconscious thoughts. He felt renewed, for a time; his limbs were not fully healed, but they could touch and feel once again. Such a revolutionary change in his condition was all the Lion would need to convince him that Aubrey's powers would be his salvation. It was thus that the Lion would embrace the warp, being slowly drawn into the clutches of Chaos by the "healing" of his brother's craft. As he worked to fill Cromwald with the powers of the warp, Aubrey would tutor him on the ways of chaos. Their common debates of ideology had taken on a twisted new importance in shedding the Lion's loyalties, preparing him for the glories promised by the whispers that revitalized his flesh and uplifted his spirit. There was a name to the voice, given only after a year of warpcraft and indoctrination. Cromwald's soul had been given unto the dark god Slaanesh.
Special Rules: Adamantium Will, Bold Strategist, Bulky, Eternal Warrior, Fear, Fearless, Fleet, Independent Character, Inspired Pride, It Will Not Die, Master of the Legion, Thundering Steeds of Iron.


===The Hektor Heresy===
'''Aldmund's Plate'''- Armor crafted for the Primarch by the Lions Rampant master of the forge, Otto Aldmund. So impressed was the Primarch with his son's work that he insisted Otto inscribe his own sigil on the breastplate of the armor. The armor provides a 2+ 4++. In addition, Cromwald ignores psychic maladictions and witchfires on a 4+ (rolled seperate from deny the witch) and he always counts as having assault and defensive grenades.


===Post-Heresy===
'''The Marshal's Rebuke'''- ''"You come to our world and claim it as your own? Child, our race was old when your race wa-"'' '''BOOM.''' S7, AP3, 24' assault 2.


After the defeat of the Warmaster, the Lions fled to avoid annihilation. Unlike many of the Traitor Legions, they did not make for the Eye of Terror. Instead they split into divisions and headed for the far rim of the galaxy, on the outskirts of Segmentum Ultima, raiding targets for supplies as opportunity arose to sustain themselves in their flight. They lurked on the edge of the galaxy and waited for the Scouring to slowly burn itself out, laying low and keeping their forces split to avoid being slaughtered all at once.
'''Triumph'''- Sabre of the Primarch. SU, AP1, Armorbane, Disruption (Any vehicle's AV value is counted as AV12 if it would otherwise be higher. Lance for melee, basically), and Rending.  


As the Scouring began to fade, the Lions reorganised their efforts, with the Legion once again falling under the iron fist of their Primarch. He led them to begin raiding and pillaging Imperial worlds across the edges of charted space. At first he did so with near impunity; his warbands landed and conquered in lightning fast strikes that shattered the defender's command structure and crippled their fighting will, then set about the task of rebuilding the world in Slaanesh's name. Those who did not convert were subjugated by those who did.
'''Bold Strategist'''- Seize the initiative on a 4+ and you can reroll reserve rolls if you so choose. Additionally, *insert special Lions rampant elite unit* become troops choices.  


The momentum of these raids slowly picked up, until the Lions were no longer a force that could be denied or ignored. A task force consisting of several chapters of Space Marines, numerous Guard regiments, the Inquisition and the young Ministorum descended upon the slowly expanding empire of excess and begin reclaiming it in the Emperor's name. Heretics burned by the billion as the Crusade pressed on, hounding the Lions and bringing them to battle at every turn. The heretics' power was shattered when Cromwald, now a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, was finally cornered and ultimately struck down. With their leader cast back into the warp, the Legion splintered and scattered. Several warbands were annihilated by the vengeful crusaders, but many escaped to scatter across the stars. From there they begin to pursue their own objectives and desires. Some fight their Primarch's war still in his absence, others fell to infighting, others simply wage war for the sake of the carnage and glory of Chaos. Only in the Black Crusades are the Lions brought back together in any meaningful fashion, where they relive a brief throwback to their glories as a Legion.
'''Inspired Pride'''- All models in your army with '''Legiones Astartes: Lions Rampant''' gain Stubborn, and all units in the army gain preferred enemy against their counterpart in the enemy army (troops gain preferred enemy against troops, heavy support against heavy support, etc), but only against units with the '''Legiones Astartes''' rule.  


==Personality==
'''Thundering Steeds of Iron'''- All vehicles in the army with one armor facing of greater than 12 can make a scout move after deployment, or add an additional 6' to their scout move if they could already make them. Additionally, they have '''Move Through Cover''' for the first turn.


==Appearance==
Cromwald is pretty down the middle as far as primarchs go. He's not as killy as Roman, or as Durable as Tiran or Golgothos, and he doesn't buff as well as Hektor or Johannes, but he does all those things reasonably well. He's better against tanks than most, what with his "fuck your AV" AP1 sword and Rending mean that if he rolls a 6 while hitting a tank, he's practically guarenteed to blow it up (2D6 against AV12, D6 + 2 + d3 on the damage table), and his gun is better than most, being more or less an assault autocannon with better AP that he can fire on the charge. Additionally, having assault and defensive grenades mean he's better with charges, giving and taking, and for all that, he still buffs your army quite nicely, especially if you're a tread head, and he's one of the cheapest primarchs. All this means that Cromwald is actually one of the best primarch choices when it comes to relative points value to cost ratio.


Cromwald has all the bearing of an aristocrat; he carries himself with confidence and poise as befitting his upbringing and is rarely seen in any state less than perfectly groomed. His charcoal shaded hair is short and neat, as is his well trimmed and maintained mustache. These are framed by prominent cheekbones and a well rounded, ruddy facial structure that lends him a noble, fatherly air. Despite his impressive presence as a primarch, he stands as disarmingly pleasant to look upon. Only his deep set brown eyes suggest anything other than a polite, erudite father figure. They are ever watchful, and have been likened to that of a hawk. No matter how amiable his expression or polite his demeanor, there can be no mistaking that Cromwald is constantly weighing the measure of those in his company.
Consider that you can stick him and a squad of elites in a spartan. That spartan can now scout 12 inches up the field, flat out 12 inches, disembark 6 inches, then charge. Assuming your opponent is using the "primarch in a spartan" method, you can cross the field, charge his tank, blow it up with your tankfucker sword, then butcher everyone inside it. Even if you fail the charge and come up short, who cares, you have defensive grenades.  
 
==Wargear==


{{/tg/-Heresy-Primarchs}}
{{/tg/-Heresy-Primarchs}}

Latest revision as of 16:29, 20 June 2023

Cromwald Walgrun
Title/Honours

The Lion of Sommesgard

Discovered (world)

Sommesgard

Discovered (period)

c.914.M30

Legion

Ninth

Role

Traitor

Fate

Daemon Prince of Slaanesh

This page details people, events, and organisations from the /tg/ Heresy, a fan re-working of the Warhammer 40,000 Universe. See the /tg/ Heresy Timeline and Galaxy pages for more information on the Alternate Universe.

Cromwald Walgrun, known as the Lion of Sommesgard, is primarch of legion IX (The Lions Rampant). A master strategist and gifted orator, he stood as a gentleman and noble soul. His insistence upon the utmost in standards of conduct and dress for himself and his legion made them a famed and vaunted legion in the eyes of the Imperium. This only made his downfall all the greater a loss for the Imperium, as his corruption now sees him as the chosen of Slaanesh, exalted among the followers of the Prince of Excess.

History[edit | edit source]

Youth[edit | edit source]

The early years of Cromwald were far removed from the lofty heights of a master of armies. From his pod the young primarch lived as an orphan in the pre-industrial streets of Sommesgard, where survival was a matter of wits, charisma and luck. Possessing all three, Cromwald grew rapidly into a shrewd and cunning survivor whose wit and impressive stature gained him the attention and patronage of Captain Edgar Walgrun of the Prathian army. Seeing potential in the young man, he afforded Cromwald the finest education and privilege of wealth and station. Given his origins, Cromwald plunged headlong into the indulgences of his newfound wealth; he consumed every new experience with a voracious appetite. He glutted himself on books and knowledge, threw himself headlong into the finer trappings of his newfound station, and found a drive to see the world anew with every opportunity to travel and test himself physically and mentally. Quickly Cromwald met the limits of what the world had to offer, and resolved himself to pursue new avenues. If the world could not give him a new adventure, he would make one for himself. He threw the wealth and prestige of the Walgrun name behind countless endeavors, becoming a patron of the sciences that would drive Prathia into an industrial age. With the revolution of automation, new methods of exploration and adventure opened up before him, but as with all things, these new sciences were turned to the purpose of war.

Sommesgard was host to regular clashes of nations in the constant shifting of power across the globe. These battles were fought in trenches and columns, with rifle and cannon. The revolution of industry had yet to transform the face of war on Sommesgard, until Prathia began to swell under the surge of raw scientific progress. The armies under her banner were armed with the fruits of the new industry, with engines capable of bearing soldiers over great distances in safety, and weapons of terrible power compared to the rifles of old. As with the sciences, Cromwald became a patron of the military. His education included extensive training in strategy and military history, and he took well to the lessons of exercising force on a national level. He became a pioneer of the new orders of battle, personally sponsoring and testing armored vehicles and mighty weapons in the crucible of combat against Prathia's neighbors.

Though gifted in battle, the true measure of Cromwald's genius as a general came with his boldness, his willingness to bring untested methods and engines to the front lines and apply them with stunning results. Under his command the first divisions of armored tanks rolled across the enemy lines in an unstoppable wave, while infantry clashed with aggressive strategies that relied of steely nerves and daring bravado to seize the initiative. Those nations unswayed by the boisterous oratory of the newly minted Field Marshal Walgrun fell swiftly to his relentless pursuit of global unification under one banner. Though he never claimed ambitions to rule, none would deny that when the final battle ended and the world was made as one, the prosperity to follow was the work of his hands.

A full decade of technological and social advancement followed, interrupted abruptly by the annihilation of the old state of Berau. Once a center for industry, Berau was wiped from the face of the earth by a monstrous meteor impact. The first rock fell directly into the city center, and soon after waves of other, lesser meteors crashed into Sommesgard in a hail of destruction. From these rocks poured forth a violent tide of barbarian greenskins, a foe unlike anything the people of Sommesgard had ever known. The ensuing war was savage, as the initial wave of orks overran a full half of the planet unchecked with their fury and superior engines of war. Cromwald, the unmatched and unbeatable general saw victory wherever he made a stand, but across the rest of Sommesgard losses were catastrophic in the face of terrifying walkers and steel behemoths. At the heart of it all rose a foul effigy to the Orky gods; a stompa constructed by the big mek leading the green tide. In a desperate bid to break the advancing horde, Cromwald led an armored spearhead against the titanic war machine, but found himself nearly annihilated alongside his vehicle under the massive guns of the stompa. With his right arm obliterated in the blast, he was forced to board the stompa and fight his way to the mek bare handed and injured, with only his innate inhuman physiology sustaining him. He broke the ork morale with the defeat of the big mek, and claimed a crude bionik arm as a trophy to replace the limb he had lost.

The following war waged on for decades, with the implacable will of the men of Sommesgard tested sorely against the brutality of the orks. Only with the coming of the Emperor was the battle finally won. His arrival was heralded with a counter-invasion of astartes, who joined the beleaguered defenders to break the green tide once and for all. The meeting of father and son was heralded with triumphant fanfare as it marked the end of a long and bitter generation of terror and strife.

The Great Crusade[edit | edit source]

Cromwald Walgrun, Lion of Prathia and Field Marshal of the armies of Sommesgard was the final primarch to be discovered during the Great Crusade. The reunion between Emperor and primarch was a joyous one, for there was much work still to be done, even after so many long years of warfare on a galactic scale. For his part, Cromwald viewed the Emperor's charge of conquest as a brilliant new means to explore and adventure beyond the domains of his homeworld; his acceptance of his role in the Crusade was wholly without reservation. In celebration, master artisans among the remembrancer order were commissioned to restore the glories of Berau, which would become the new seat of Legion IX's administration. Alongside the reconstruction of the devastated city came a symbolic gesture from the Mechanicum. Gifted to Cromwald was a bionic arm crafted by the greatest tech adepts the expeditionary fleet possessed. The new limb was peerless in design and shone with a magnificent platinum luster that could not be dulled. Leaving behind his crude graft as a trophy of victory, the Lion of Prathia ascended to meet his gene-children whole once more.

The reunion between Primarch and legion would be met with far less adulation and praise. The Highland Raiders were a dirty, inglorious rabble, wholly unlike the noble ideal of Astartes Cromwald had envisioned. Their assembled strength consisted of a somber, joyless lot shod in dull grey. No heraldry or banners depicted honors or glory in their ranks. To a celebrated conqueror such as Cromwald, it was an insult to his genetic legacy that his men be so utterly without pride in themselves or their accomplishments.

Five years were spent restructuring his legion and injecting fresh blood into their ranks. The nature of the newly christened Lions would swiftly change to reflect the dynamic leadership of their primarch, but such would not end his woes. By the time Cromwald had been reunited with his legion, the crusade was well underway for over a century. He was the last primarch to be discovered, and his brethren all by then had a list of accolades and honors that left him faced with personal inadequacy. His legion's reputation would take time and effort to salvage, for even after they had been reforged many voices would still jeer at the Emperor's dogs, ill fit for the glories other, more capable legions garnered. Cromwald seethed quietly for his damaged pride, as each slight against his gene-sons was an insult to his daring leadership and peerless abilities. In this respect, he became a driven man; his honor demanded that the Lions earn their place as heroes of the Crusade. No number of victories would satisfy his need to prove his worth, nor would any accolade ease his need to be the greatest among his brethren.

Naked ambition would serve to sour relations between Cromwald and several of his brothers. He would cross words with his more refined kin with some regularity, as his differing worldview and brazen attitude to life matched poorly with more reserved or jaded primarchs. Similarly, his pride in his pedigree would alienate others further; he viewed the less refined of his kinsmen as a tragic waste of potential. Such an attitude, matched by patronizing words left Cromwald with cold relations to several brothers.

Only in the company of other gentlemen did his sometimes abrasive demeanor ease. Above all others, Roman Albrecht could instill humility and fraternity in Cromwald. In each other's company pride became a matter of sport, and consequently camaraderie grew between the Steel Marshals and the Lions Rampant to reflect the close knit friendship of their masters. The even temperament of the noble Albrecht for a time would bring peace to Cromwald, tempering his ambition with a degree of patience he would otherwise have lacked.

The Hektor Heresy[edit | edit source]

Post-Heresy[edit | edit source]

After the defeat of the Warmaster, the Lions fled to avoid annihilation. Unlike many of the Traitor Legions, they did not make for the Eye of Terror. Instead they split into divisions and headed for the far rim of the galaxy, on the outskirts of Segmentum Ultima, raiding targets for supplies as opportunity arose to sustain themselves in their flight. They lurked on the edge of the galaxy and waited for the Scouring to slowly burn itself out, laying low and keeping their forces split to avoid being slaughtered all at once.

As the Scouring began to fade, the Lions reorganised their efforts, with the Legion once again falling under the iron fist of their Primarch. He led them to begin raiding and pillaging Imperial worlds across the edges of charted space. At first he did so with near impunity; his warbands landed and conquered in lightning fast strikes that shattered the defender's command structure and crippled their fighting will, then set about the task of rebuilding the world in Slaanesh's name. Those who did not convert were subjugated by those who did.

The momentum of these raids slowly picked up, until the Lions were no longer a force that could be denied or ignored. A task force consisting of several chapters of Space Marines, numerous Guard regiments, the Inquisition and the young Ministorum descended upon the slowly expanding empire of excess and begin reclaiming it in the Emperor's name. Heretics burned by the billion as the Crusade pressed on, hounding the Lions and bringing them to battle at every turn. The heretics' power was shattered when Cromwald, now a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, was finally cornered and ultimately struck down. With their leader cast back into the warp, the Legion splintered and scattered. Several warbands were annihilated by the vengeful crusaders, but many escaped to scatter across the stars. From there they begin to pursue their own objectives and desires. Some fight their Primarch's war still in his absence, others fell to infighting, others simply wage war for the sake of the carnage and glory of Chaos. Only in the Black Crusades are the Lions brought back together in any meaningful fashion, where they relive a brief throwback to their glories as a Legion.

Personality[edit | edit source]

Though bold and boisterous, Cromwald above all prides himself on being a clever man of clearly refined tastes. He demands of himself carriage that befits the pride of his station, and sees his reputation and honor as paramount in importance. This drives him to be something of a renaissance man; to be uninitiated in the many manners by which a man can be measured is to admit himself as a lesser son of the Emperor. Such stubbornness driven by pride only fuels his brazen love for his cultivated, larger than life image of the scholar-adventurer.

This pride is also his greatest flaw, however. As the last of the primarchs to be found, Cromwald nurses an inferiority complex beneath the bluster and posturing that burns eternally. Beneath the mask of pride lay the need to not only succeed, but to surpass the achievements of his peers. While an excellent driving force, it sometimes drives him to ignore aid when offered, refusing to portray himself or his legion in any light that could be construed as weakness or inability.

Appearance[edit | edit source]

Cromwald has all the bearing of an aristocrat; he carries himself with confidence and poise as befitting his upbringing and is rarely seen in any state less than perfectly groomed. His charcoal shaded hair is short and neat, as is his well trimmed and maintained mustache. These are framed by prominent cheekbones and a well rounded, ruddy facial structure that lends him a noble, fatherly air. Despite his impressive presence as a primarch, he stands as disarmingly pleasant to look upon. Only his deep set brown eyes suggest anything other than a polite, erudite father figure. They are ever watchful, and have been likened to that of a hawk. No matter how amiable his expression or polite his demeanor, there can be no mistaking that Cromwald is constantly weighing the measure of those in his company.

Wargear[edit | edit source]

The Marshal's Rebuke - Originally a sidearm common to tank crews of Sommesgard, the Rebuke was a break-action pistol extensively modified for use by Cromwald's hand. Further upgraded by the artisans of the Mechanicum, it now sports two monstrous barrels fed with ammunition of an excessively large caliber. This miniature cannon possesses remarkable power and is said to ring clear over the din of battle, no matter how violent the sortie may become.

Triumph - The hallmark weapon of the Lion's armored divisions is the cavalry saber, suitably enlarged for use by Astartes. In this tradition Cromwald bears a curved blade of similar make, incorporating a singularly powerful weaponized conversion field that renders armor useless against its shining blade. With short, masterful strokes its wielder can hew through heavily armored foes, making even the battle plate of a tank vulnerable in the face of precise strikes of an expert swordsman.

A fan's attempt at rules[edit | edit source]

PTS WS BS S T W I A Ld Sv
Cromwald Walgrun: 410 7 7 6 6 6 7 5 10 2+/4++



Unit type: Infantry, Independent Character.

Wargear: Aldmund's Plate, The Marshal's Rebuke, Triumph.

Special Rules: Adamantium Will, Bold Strategist, Bulky, Eternal Warrior, Fear, Fearless, Fleet, Independent Character, Inspired Pride, It Will Not Die, Master of the Legion, Thundering Steeds of Iron.

Aldmund's Plate- Armor crafted for the Primarch by the Lions Rampant master of the forge, Otto Aldmund. So impressed was the Primarch with his son's work that he insisted Otto inscribe his own sigil on the breastplate of the armor. The armor provides a 2+ 4++. In addition, Cromwald ignores psychic maladictions and witchfires on a 4+ (rolled seperate from deny the witch) and he always counts as having assault and defensive grenades.

The Marshal's Rebuke- "You come to our world and claim it as your own? Child, our race was old when your race wa-" BOOM. S7, AP3, 24' assault 2.

Triumph- Sabre of the Primarch. SU, AP1, Armorbane, Disruption (Any vehicle's AV value is counted as AV12 if it would otherwise be higher. Lance for melee, basically), and Rending.

Bold Strategist- Seize the initiative on a 4+ and you can reroll reserve rolls if you so choose. Additionally, *insert special Lions rampant elite unit* become troops choices.

Inspired Pride- All models in your army with Legiones Astartes: Lions Rampant gain Stubborn, and all units in the army gain preferred enemy against their counterpart in the enemy army (troops gain preferred enemy against troops, heavy support against heavy support, etc), but only against units with the Legiones Astartes rule.

Thundering Steeds of Iron- All vehicles in the army with one armor facing of greater than 12 can make a scout move after deployment, or add an additional 6' to their scout move if they could already make them. Additionally, they have Move Through Cover for the first turn.

Cromwald is pretty down the middle as far as primarchs go. He's not as killy as Roman, or as Durable as Tiran or Golgothos, and he doesn't buff as well as Hektor or Johannes, but he does all those things reasonably well. He's better against tanks than most, what with his "fuck your AV" AP1 sword and Rending mean that if he rolls a 6 while hitting a tank, he's practically guarenteed to blow it up (2D6 against AV12, D6 + 2 + d3 on the damage table), and his gun is better than most, being more or less an assault autocannon with better AP that he can fire on the charge. Additionally, having assault and defensive grenades mean he's better with charges, giving and taking, and for all that, he still buffs your army quite nicely, especially if you're a tread head, and he's one of the cheapest primarchs. All this means that Cromwald is actually one of the best primarch choices when it comes to relative points value to cost ratio.

Consider that you can stick him and a squad of elites in a spartan. That spartan can now scout 12 inches up the field, flat out 12 inches, disembark 6 inches, then charge. Assuming your opponent is using the "primarch in a spartan" method, you can cross the field, charge his tank, blow it up with your tankfucker sword, then butcher everyone inside it. Even if you fail the charge and come up short, who cares, you have defensive grenades.

The Primarchs of the /tg/ Heresy
Loyalist: Alexandri of Rosskar - Arelex Orannis - Brennus - Gaspard Lumey - Golgothos
Onyx the Indestructible - Roman Albrecht - Shakya Vardhana - Tiran Osoros
Traitor: Aubrey The Grey - Cromwald Walgrun - Hektor Cincinnatus - Inferox - Johannes Vrach
Rogerius Merrill - The Voidwatcher - Tollund Ötztal - Uriel Salazar
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