Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

I'm part way, still trying to make a past black ernough, beyond the norm for a space marine.
Got men killed being over zekous, I know templers but... and aggressive, as in caused disaster for men , as a result somthing very bad happened due to there loss.

This looks fun. I would be happy to do Brother Oberyn.

Brother Seraphan

Brother Seraphan was simply another scavenger on the harsh world of Baal Secundus. But, he always took risks, be it waiting as long as possible before throwing a grenade, or getting as close as possible to a rampaging mutant, he was first in, last out.
Finally the games came to Baal Secundus. The Blood angels arrived and began recruiting. Many were favourites, but Seraphan was not one of them. However through cunning, skill, and incredible luck, he was inducted into the chapter and became a scout.
It was noted that as a scout he never once fell prey to the red thirst, but had a tendency for using up-close and personal weapons, such as the shotgun. He received massive fame amoung his squad when, battling a small group of Tyranids, he single-handedly eliminated ten of them, using only his frag grenades and a knife.
Soon he was inducted into the assault squads, and roaring down from a drop-ship, his chaplin noticed that he was showing signs of the red thirst. Sure enough, when he landed he released an animalistic scream, and waded through hordes of Orks, chainsword getting stuck once or twice. When he had finished, the thirst receded, and all was well. In the next engagement however, him and his squad managed to take down a number of Goff nobz, winning many laurels.
However it soon became apparent that Seraphan would never become a Devastator. He couldn’t keep control of the red thirst, and many feared that this exemplary fighter would fall pray to the black rage. But he never did, and gained a reputation for an exemplary hunter of vehicles, and heavy infantry alike. When he became a tactical marine, he quickly earned himself his weapon, the Angels Light, an old combi-melta that had served it’s previous wielder well. Using this weapon he managed to bring down opponents that his brethren simply could not, but after the crucial moment, it was guaranteed that the thirst would take him.
When he was called into service for the deathwatch he did so willingly, and has proved himself more than adequate at taking down enemy infantry and vehicles alike. His armour kills involve something from nearly every race, be it an Eldar Wave Serpent, An Ork Trukk, or even a Tau Hammerhead, Seraphan will always rise to the challenge.

Can i be Brother Ry'ken?

Dannyrulx wrote:Seraphan please. I'll do something about him and the red thirst in the morning.

(Or a Chaplin if you're gonna add one, highly recommended if this is fluffy. Maybe an angel of redemption Chaplin?)

Sure, but I see you've already written some! I'm not planning on adding a Chaplain, but things can change!

Dannyrulx wrote:Brother Seraphan

Brother Seraphan was simply another scavenger on the harsh world of Baal Secundus. But, he always took risks, be it waiting as long as possible before throwing a grenade, or getting as close as possible to a rampaging mutant, he was first in, last out.
Finally the games came to Baal Secundus. The Blood angels arrived and began recruiting. Many were favourites, but Seraphan was not one of them. However through cunning, skill, and incredible luck, he was inducted into the chapter and became a scout.
It was noted that as a scout he never once fell prey to the red thirst, but had a tendency for using up-close and personal weapons, such as the shotgun. He received massive fame amoung his squad when, battling a small group of Tyranids, he single-handedly eliminated ten of them, using only his frag grenades and a knife.
Soon he was inducted into the assault squads, and roaring down from a drop-ship, his chaplin noticed that he was showing signs of the red thirst. Sure enough, when he landed he released an animalistic scream, and waded through hordes of Orks, chainsword getting stuck once or twice. When he had finished, the thirst receded, and all was well. In the next engagement however, him and his squad managed to take down a number of Goff nobz, winning many laurels.
However it soon became apparent that Seraphan would never become a Devastator. He couldn’t keep control of the red thirst, and many feared that this exemplary fighter would fall pray to the black rage. But he never did, and gained a reputation for an exemplary hunter of vehicles, and heavy infantry alike. When he became a tactical marine, he quickly earned himself his weapon, the Angels Light, an old combi-melta that had served it’s previous wielder well. Using this weapon he managed to bring down opponents that his brethren simply could not, but after the crucial moment, it was guaranteed that the thirst would take him.
When he was called into service for the deathwatch he did so willingly, and has proved himself more than adequate at taking down enemy infantry and vehicles alike. His armour kills involve something from nearly every race, be it an Eldar Wave Serpent, An Ork Trukk, or even a Tau Hammerhead, Seraphan will always rise to the challenge.

This looks great, I can see you've put a lot of effort into this!

Gallia_Comata wrote:This looks fun. I would be happy to do Brother Oberyn.

Of course, he's yours!

lliu wrote:Can i be Brother Ry'ken?

Yes you can!

Can I please be Brother Capulet - Plasma cannon - Imperial Fists

Lysander01 wrote:
Can I please be Brother Capulet - Plasma cannon - Imperial Fists

Yes, you may! I could imagine you would go for an Imperial Fist!

Brother Erik - Storm bolter, power fist - Space Wolves


If he's still available

Kinda surprised that nobody has taken the land speeder pilot yet...

Pyeatt wrote:Brother Erik - Storm bolter, power fist - Space Wolves


If he's still available

Aye, he still is! And that fills up the Terminator Squad!

Dannyrulx wrote:Kinda surprised that nobody has taken the land speeder pilot yet...

Yeah, I'm also surprised why no-one has taken the Stormraven pilot as well! You can take him if you want!

Heh, can I take two then? If so I'll keep fingers crossed for a Chaplin.

Heh, also, why don't you put a "full" by the termi squad?

 Dannyrulx wrote:
Heh, can I take two then? If so I'll keep fingers crossed for a Chaplin.

Hey, if you want to take two, as long as no-one else offers, I don't think it's unreasonable!

Heh, also, why don't you put a "full" by the termi squad?

You know what, I was thinking of doing that, but decided against it at the last second!

Brother karrack, once known as assault sergant justafar.
His rise in the templers was fast, a zelous warrior, unyielding and steadfast. Before taking the black he wielded duel lighting claws and a prized suit of termaitor armour.

But his fall began. He was too ageressive, his zeal overtook his restraint, experience did not temper his fire despite his 2 long service studs.

Small incidents, but noted, never slated for promotion, and then his darkest day, seeing his Marshall fall, he lead the charge against the savage and untrustworthy dark eldar. Many where lost, the banner once held by the undefeated sigmound and blessed by Dorn himself in the dark kins hands. 10,000 years held at the head of a crusade now defiled by xeno,s.

Stripped of his rank, disowned by his brothers.
At the chapel the emperor guided his choice, to take the black sheild and swore a holy vow, once he was forgiven by the emperor and earn his chapter colours once more but until that day serve the death watch as brother karrack.

His armour locked in a secret vault, a deal between both death watch and templers. Taking a suit of power armour and a unadorned but long proven bolter with compact but powerful plasma gun built into its design, a relic of a long dead master of the forge.

Beginning his vigil at the watch, he fights with a cold fury to reclaim his name and honour or die in the attempt.

Typed on tablet so excuse errors, just a first draft mind.

++++++++++++++++++++
Password Confirmed

Brother Oberyn

Current Status - Blackshield member of DeathWatch, Sniper scout.

Decrypting file..............File Decrypted

Alberich Henross Former Invaders Space Marine

While stubborn, reckless and brutal could be used to describe any member of the Invaders Chapter, none chased these Chapter ideals harder and with more zeal the Alberich. All ways pushing himself to live up to the old glories of the Chapters past and combing them with the current bitterness of the the Chapter; Alberich was an Invader exemplified. A natural marksmen; he quickly took to Scout training and becoming an excellent sniper. While his drive and stubbornness would see him promoted beyond a simple Scout, he would never shy away from taking up the lighter Scout armor if the need was there; all ways relishing a chance to hunt down the foes of Man from his trusty scope.

Normally such a exemplar of Invaders spirit would see such a man rise through the ranks, maybe even make a lasting impact upon the Chapter itself; though fate had other ideas. It would be the battles of the Verdox system that would be the loss of the Invaders and the gain of the Deathwatch. For Alberich served in the battle of Verdox II, fighting the treacherous Sunspear of the hated Eldar race, that changed his fate. Despite outnumbering and catching the vile Xenos between the avenging Space Marines and the Horde of the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Leviathan, Sunspear still manged to escape; all the while forcing the Space Marine force into a costly conflict 'nids. Nearly killed twice on Verdox II, once by the Ghost-Warriors of Sunspear and again nearly consumed by a hungry swarm of Hormagaunts. Despite this Alberich would be one of the lucky ones to be able to survive the battle and live to fight again, though to himself he did not feel lucky. Embittered at the lost of so many of his all ready depleted Chapter once again by vile Eldar trickery, Alberich would be one among the many who would honor the Invaders oath and joined Deathwatch.

Though this would not be enough for him. No matter how many Xenos died under the sight of his scope, it would never be enough. Bitterness and vengeance had taken too deep of a root inside himself and no matter how many disgusting Xenos he killed he could never slake his need to avenge the wrongs of himself and his Chapter. It would be the Inquisitor Restricted Access that pushed him over the edge. During the Lyest Marches Extermination, that Alberich would break his ties with the Invaders and swore himself to DeathWatch as a Blackshield. Going so far as to abandoned his own name and take up the name Oberyn; a old title from the Invaders homeworld of Ogrys meaning "Hunter of the Fae".

Giving up everything for his hate and bitterness Oberyn is now nothing more then a wraith. He lives for nothing but hunting down the alien foes of Mankind now. No mission is to dangerous for him and all risked are excepted. Oberyn hunts now for the day when either all Xenos will perish or when he becomes the hunted. "For every Noble drop spilled by his sons, I will make them bleed tenfold. No Xenos will escape my sight. I Will have justice for their wrongs. The Xenos will pay, they will die so I swear."

Bloody hell. I'll have to re-write Seraphan at this rate.

Please Chaplin?

jhe90 wrote:Brother karrack, once known as assault sergant justafar.
His rise in the templers was fast, a zelous warrior, unyielding and steadfast. Before taking the black he wielded duel lighting claws and a prized suit of termaitor armour.

But his fall began. He was too ageressive, his zeal overtook his restraint, experience did not temper his fire despite his 2 long service studs.

Small incidents, but noted, never slated for promotion, and then his darkest day, seeing his Marshall fall, he lead the charge against the savage and untrustworthy dark eldar. Many where lost, the banner once held by the undefeated sigmound and blessed by Dorn himself in the dark kins hands. 10,000 years held at the head of a crusade now defiled by xeno,s.

Stripped of his rank, disowned by his brothers.
At the chapel the emperor guided his choice, to take the black sheild and swore a holy vow, once he was forgiven by the emperor and earn his chapter colours once more but until that day serve the death watch as brother karrack.

His armour locked in a secret vault, a deal between both death watch and templers. Taking a suit of power armour and a unadorned but long proven bolter with compact but powerful plasma gun built into its design, a relic of a long dead master of the forge.

Beginning his vigil at the watch, he fights with a cold fury to reclaim his name and honour or die in the attempt.

Typed on tablet so excuse errors, just a first draft mind.

It looks fine, but if you want to expand on Karrack, you're free to!

Gallia_Comata wrote: ++++++++++++++++++++
Password Confirmed

Brother Oberyn

Current Status - Blackshield member of DeathWatch, Sniper scout.

Decrypting file..............File Decrypted

Alberich Henross Former Invaders Space Marine

While stubborn, reckless and brutal could be used to describe any member of the Invaders Chapter, none chased these Chapter ideals harder and with more zeal the Alberich. All ways pushing himself to live up to the old glories of the Chapters past and combing them with the current bitterness of the the Chapter; Alberich was an Invader exemplified. A natural marksmen; he quickly took to Scout training and becoming an excellent sniper. While his drive and stubbornness would see him promoted beyond a simple Scout, he would never shy away from taking up the lighter Scout armor if the need was there; all ways relishing a chance to hunt down the foes of Man from his trusty scope.

Normally such a exemplar of Invaders spirit would see such a man rise through the ranks, maybe even make a lasting impact upon the Chapter itself; though fate had other ideas. It would be the battles of the Verdox system that would be the loss of the Invaders and the gain of the Deathwatch. For Alberich served in the battle of Verdox II, fighting the treacherous Sunspear of the hated Eldar race, that changed his fate. Despite outnumbering and catching the vile Xenos between the avenging Space Marines and the Horde of the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Leviathan, Sunspear still manged to escape; all the while forcing the Space Marine force into a costly conflict 'nids. Nearly killed twice on Verdox II, once by the Ghost-Warriors of Sunspear and again nearly consumed by a hungry swarm of Hormagaunts. Despite this Alberich would be one of the lucky ones to be able to survive the battle and live to fight again, though to himself he did not feel lucky. Embittered at the lost of so many of his all ready depleted Chapter once again by vile Eldar trickery, Alberich would be one among the many who would honor the Invaders oath and joined Deathwatch.

Though this would not be enough for him. No matter how many Xenos died under the sight of his scope, it would never be enough. Bitterness and vengeance had taken too deep of a root inside himself and no matter how many disgusting Xenos he killed he could never slake his need to avenge the wrongs of himself and his Chapter. It would be the Inquisitor Restricted Access that pushed him over the edge. During the Lyest Marches Extermination, that Alberich would break his ties with the Invaders and swore himself to DeathWatch as a Blackshield. Going so far as to abandoned his own name and take up the name Oberyn; a old title from the Invaders homeworld of Ogrys meaning "Hunter of the Fae".

Giving up everything for his hate and bitterness Oberyn is now nothing more then a wraith. He lives for nothing but hunting down the alien foes of Mankind now. No mission is to dangerous for him and all risked are excepted. Oberyn hunts now for the day when either all Xenos will perish or when he becomes the hunted. "For every Noble drop spilled by his sons, I will make them bleed tenfold. No Xenos will escape my sight. I Will have justice for their wrongs. The Xenos will pay, they will die so I swear."

This is really good, I'm loving the detail put into this! Thank you!

Dannyrulx wrote:Bloody hell. I'll have to re-write Seraphan at this rate.

Seraphan is fine, IMHO, but again, if you want to expand on him, you're more than welcome to!

Apothecary Py'ros please! I Like the Salamanders.. need to build me an army

MercenStein wrote:
Apothecary Py'ros please! I Like the Salamanders.. need to build me an army

All yours! Welcome to Dakka!

Brother Eperus boom, I want's him please.

 Brennonjw wrote:
Brother Eperus boom, I want's him please.

Boom, the squad sniper's yours!

Brother Erik of the Space Wolves.

Originally Erik Lightning-helm, for his tribe of notorious raiders. Large and muscular even for a youth of Fenris, especially so in contrast to the lithe but strong mariners of his tribe.
On his second raid, still eager to prove himself as an unbled lad, misfortune struck. A sleek fishing boat caught wind of the raiders still far out at sea, fleet enough to escape and rally a defense. Ships met still in deep water, boarding actions took place, and the raiders found themselves outnumbered and fighting desperately.
Erik found himself desperate in the thick of action, laying about himself with a solid bone railing. Opponents fell about his feet, crushed skulls, broken arms and faces. Some screaming, some groaning, others silent altogether.
A stroke of fortune had young Erik on an enemy ship coming face to face with a grizzled captain, still reeling and exhausted from a duel. Gripping the now broken bone rail to harden his strike, a strong jab to the throat and the captain dropped to the deck. Dragging his body to the helm and holding him up by his hair, Erik felt the tide of battle turn as the morale fled from many of the fighting men. Apparently this had been a man of great rapport.

As things looked at their brightest, the deck was suddenly rocked, and a crash of splintering reigned over the battle. Fatigued from battle, dazed and concussed from being thrown, Erik could only look from the deck in horror at the great sea dragon that had split the vessel in twain. Then he was underneath the water, helpless, strengthless. An iron grip shot under the icy brine taking his forarm like a vice and he was effortlessly lifted clear. Above water there was a roar akin to a hurricane, but all his eyes could take in was the fighters across all vessels standing side by side, jaws agape. A metallic voice rang from behind "You have fire lad. I'll give you a chance to become more than you are, in service to something far greater than your tribe." His last conscious image was searing red eyes embedded in a wolfs skull. Terror along with fatigued dragged him into unconsciousness.

 Pyeatt wrote:
Brother Erik of the Space Wolves.

Originally Erik Lightning-helm, for his tribe of notorious raiders. Large and muscular even for a youth of Fenris, especially so in contrast to the lithe but strong mariners of his tribe.
On his second raid, still eager to prove himself as an unbled lad, misfortune struck. A sleek fishing boat caught wind of the raiders still far out at sea, fleet enough to escape and rally a defense. Ships met still in deep water, boarding actions took place, and the raiders found themselves outnumbered and fighting desperately.
Erik found himself desperate in the thick of action, laying about himself with a solid bone railing. Opponents fell about his feet, crushed skulls, broken arms and faces. Some screaming, some groaning, others silent altogether.
A stroke of fortune had young Erik on an enemy ship coming face to face with a grizzled captain, still reeling and exhausted from a duel. Gripping the now broken bone rail to harden his strike, a strong jab to the throat and the captain dropped to the deck. Dragging his body to the helm and holding him up by his hair, Erik felt the tide of battle turn as the morale fled from many of the fighting men. Apparently this had been a man of great rapport.

As things looked at their brightest, the deck was suddenly rocked, and a crash of splintering reigned over the battle. Fatigued from battle, dazed and concussed from being thrown, Erik could only look from the deck in horror at the great sea dragon that had split the vessel in twain. Then he was underneath the water, helpless, strengthless. An iron grip shot under the icy brine taking his forarm like a vice and he was effortlessly lifted clear. Above water there was a roar akin to a hurricane, but all his eyes could take in was the fighters across all vessels standing side by side, jaws agape. A metallic voice rang from behind "You have fire lad. I'll give you a chance to become more than you are, in service to something far greater than your tribe." His last conscious image was searing red eyes embedded in a wolfs skull. Terror along with fatigued dragged him into unconsciousness.

Ooh, this is brilliant!! Any more where that came from, I'd love more on Erik!

I'd like Brother Lymaan, the Raven Guard Scout. I have an idea for him.

Sergeant claudio if its still open!

Brother Eperus

Eperus was never one for jump packs, unlike his brothers he found them loud, and "uncivilized". But, as if to make up for this, Eperus took to stealth with an unbridled zeal, often forgotten, even by his own squad-mates. Eperus has always been fond of his bolter. An elegant, accurate, and above all else, deadly Stealker-pattern bolter. He willingly, and almost with relief, joined the Ordo Xeno's deathwatch when came time.

Unlike many of his allies in the Deathwatch, Eperus holds no past grudges or secrets, just an urge to herald in humanity on all non-imperium planets, which he finds a little disturbing deep down in the back of his head. He has always been a realist, quoted as saying "Everything dies, it's just a matter of when, and how" and is devoted to trying to tie the never ending war and often times extreme actions of both friend and foe down in any logical way, but often ushering such thoughts down as "un-important"

However the most odd thing about Brother Eperus is that he always seems just on the verge of sickness and has never quite looked "healthy" since his first encounter with the Death guard traitor legion. But even more curious, is that when in the presence of the Deamons of the warp, Plague bearers won't attack, but gravitate to Eperus, ignoring him even as his rifle barks out death. It has even been seen greater unclean ones blocking the path of other daemons moving towards Eperus, though anyone who mentions it is swiftly "spoken too" by Eperus himself.

(Personally, I like his story, though tell me if you don't.)

Id like to take on storm raven pilot if you dont mind.

fallinq wrote:I'd like Brother Lymaan, the Raven Guard Scout. I have an idea for him.

Great, I'd love to see it!

RileyJessup wrote:Sergeant claudio if its still open!

Still open, he's yours now!

Brennonjw wrote:Brother Eperus

Eperus was never one for jump packs, unlike his brothers he found them loud, and "uncivilized". But, as if to make up for this, Eperus took to stealth with an unbridled zeal, often forgotten, even by his own squad-mates. Eperus has always been fond of his bolter. An elegant, accurate, and above all else, deadly Stealker-pattern bolter. He willingly, and almost with relief, joined the Ordo Xeno's deathwatch when came time.

Unlike many of his allies in the Deathwatch, Eperus holds no past grudges or secrets, just an urge to herald in humanity on all non-imperium planets, which he finds a little disturbing deep down in the back of his head. He has always been a realist, quoted as saying "Everything dies, it's just a matter of when, and how" and is devoted to trying to tie the never ending war and often times extreme actions of both friend and foe down in any logical way, but often ushering such thoughts down as "un-important"

However the most odd thing about Brother Eperus is that he always seems just on the verge of sickness and has never quite looked "healthy" since his first encounter with the Death guard traitor legion. But even more curious, is that when in the presence of the Deamons of the warp, Plague bearers won't attack, but gravitate to Eperus, ignoring him even as his rifle barks out death. It has even been seen greater unclean ones blocking the path of other daemons moving towards Eperus, though anyone who mentions it is swiftly "spoken too" by Eperus himself.

(Personally, I like his story, though tell me if you don't.)

I like it, I can very easily draw parallels from Eperus' personality to mine! (Except the whole 'marked by Nurgle' thing. Nice touch by the way!)

Commander OB wrote:Id like to take on storm raven pilot if you dont mind.

No problems, he's yours!

Brother Lymaan peered out from behind the ledge he was taking cover behind, only to be met with a hail of bolter fire. He quickly ducked back down. He was only hidden for half a second before he popped up a few feet away, lined up the sights of his rifle and took a shot. He ducked down again just instants before another wave of fire rained down on him. Then he was back up again over there. Again, he had mere milliseconds to find his target before the incoming fire rained down on him. Duck, crawl, jump, shoot. Duck, crawl, jump, shoot. He did the movements with machine like proficiency. Four perfect head shots.

In a grassy knoll several hundred yards away, A Raven Guard Chaplain and a much smaller, robed figure watched him with interest through their viewfinders.

“Remarkable,” the robed figure said, “He’s hit moving targets at half a kilo ten times in a row, each time in a seven second window, with variable patterns of incoming fire. Not one missed shot. Not one single mistake. Even in an Astartes, that’s impressive. For a new initiate, it’s incredible. So why do you sound so hesitant when I say that this is the one?”

The Chaplain sighed. His skull like face plate hid his face from view, but he didn’t sound terribly pleased. “There’s certainly nothing wrong with his skills. He is, as you said, extremely promising for an initiate. His mind is what concerns me. The conversion process from man to marine is a difficult one. Many don’t survive. Brother Lymaan was nearly one that didn’t. The apothecaries were quite ready to write him off and have his body disposed of when he came back from the brink. But he was never the same after that. Brother Lymaan doesn’t speak. He hasn’t said a word since he clawed his way back to life after nearly being killed by his own Astartes enhancements.”

“Were his vocal chords damaged?” the robed figure asked, sounding confused.

The Chaplain shook his head. “If that was it, I wouldn’t be concerned. Such an injury has little significance to battlefield performance. But there is nothing physically wrong with him. He just won’t speak. And of course, we can't get him to explain his reasoning either. Even when disciplined for it, he takes his punishment without complaint and gives us no new information.”

“Aside from this one issue, what other problems does he have?” the robed figure asked, “Does he disobey orders?”

The Chaplain shook his head again. “He follows every order to the letter. Aside from orders that require him to speak, of course.”

“Is he neglectful of his duties?”

“If anything, he goes above and beyond in fulfilling his duties.”

“Has he exhibit signs of cowardice or uncontrolled rage under pressure?”

“None that any have witnessed. He always seems quite calm and controlled.”

“Is he impious in his reverence for the Emperor or the Primarchs?”

The Chaplain sighed. With each answer, he knew the conversation was leading in a direction he didn’t want it to go, but he wouldn’t lie. “He makes the motions and lip movements for all the devotions, he just refuses to speak them aloud. He seems pious enough.”

“And does he work poorly with his fellow initiates?”

The Chaplain shook his head one last time. “He’s not the warmest of battle brothers, but none mind having him around. Mostly he stays out of everyone’s way.”

The robed figure nodded decisively. “Then it seems that this… quirk of personality… is completely inconsequential.”

“Likely, it’s inconsequential,” the Chaplain admitted, “But I would feel more comfortable…”

“You’re a Chaplain,” the robed figure cut him off, “You should know that these decisions aren’t made based on what is ‘comfortable’. Likely, he won’t become an inspiring leader, but that isn’t our plan for him. The Ordo Xenos wants Brother Lymaan. The Deathwatch wants Brother Lymaan. He is our choice. We will not accept a substitute. That is all.”

The Chaplain sighed. He was bound by oath to honor their agreement, even if he did have more doubt gnawing at the back of his mind than he was comfortable with. He didn’t have a valid reason, and it was likely nothing, but his instincts about matters like this had served him so well in the past…

Out on the training ground, Brother Lymaan continued to move like a well oiled machine, making head shots and dodging incoming fire. The targets were farther away now, and his time had increased, but he still was making an impressive showing.

“Very well,” the Chaplain told the robed figure, “I shall inform him as soon as he completes the training exercise.” He made the sign of the aquilla with his hands, which the robed figure returned. “The Emperor protects.”

 fallinq wrote:
Brother Lymaan peered out from behind the ledge he was taking cover behind, only to be met with a hail of bolter fire. He quickly ducked back down. He was only hidden for half a second before he popped up a few feet away, lined up the sights of his rifle and took a shot. He ducked down again just instants before another wave of fire rained down on him. Then he was back up again over there. Again, he had mere milliseconds to find his target before the incoming fire rained down on him. Duck, crawl, jump, shoot. Duck, crawl, jump, shoot. He did the movements with machine like proficiency. Four perfect head shots.

In a grassy knoll several hundred yards away, A Raven Guard Chaplain and a much smaller, robed figure watched him with interest through their viewfinders.

“Remarkable,” the robed figure said, “He’s hit moving targets at half a kilo ten times in a row, each time in a seven second window, with variable patterns of incoming fire. Not one missed shot. Not one single mistake. Even in an Astartes, that’s impressive. For a new initiate, it’s incredible. So why do you sound so hesitant when I say that this is the one?”

The Chaplain sighed. His skull like face plate hid his face from view, but he didn’t sound terribly pleased. “There’s certainly nothing wrong with his skills. He is, as you said, extremely promising for an initiate. His mind is what concerns me. The conversion process from man to marine is a difficult one. Many don’t survive. Brother Lymaan was nearly one that didn’t. The apothecaries were quite ready to write him off and have his body disposed of when he came back from the brink. But he was never the same after that. Brother Lymaan doesn’t speak. He hasn’t said a word since he clawed his way back to life after nearly being killed by his own Astartes enhancements.”

“Were his vocal chords damaged?” the robed figure asked, sounding confused.

The Chaplain shook his head. “If that was it, I wouldn’t be concerned. Such an injury has little significance to battlefield performance. But there is nothing physically wrong with him. He just won’t speak. And of course, we can't get him to explain his reasoning either. Even when disciplined for it, he takes his punishment without complaint and gives us no new information.”

“Aside from this one issue, what other problems does he have?” the robed figure asked, “Does he disobey orders?”

The Chaplain shook his head again. “He follows every order to the letter. Aside from orders that require him to speak, of course.”

“Is he neglectful of his duties?”

“If anything, he goes above and beyond in fulfilling his duties.”

“Has he exhibit signs of cowardice or uncontrolled rage under pressure?”

“None that any have witnessed. He always seems quite calm and controlled.”

“Is he impious in his reverence for the Emperor or the Primarchs?”

The Chaplain sighed. With each answer, he knew the conversation was leading in a direction he didn’t want it to go, but he wouldn’t lie. “He makes the motions and lip movements for all the devotions, he just refuses to speak them aloud. He seems pious enough.”

“And does he work poorly with his fellow initiates?”

The Chaplain shook his head one last time. “He’s not the warmest of battle brothers, but none mind having him around. Mostly he stays out of everyone’s way.”

The robed figure nodded decisively. “Then it seems that this… quirk of personality… is completely inconsequential.”

“Likely, it’s inconsequential,” the Chaplain admitted, “But I would feel more comfortable…”

“You’re a Chaplain,” the robed figure cut him off, “You should know that these decisions aren’t made based on what is ‘comfortable’. Likely, he won’t become an inspiring leader, but that isn’t our plan for him. The Ordo Xenos wants Brother Lymaan. The Deathwatch wants Brother Lymaan. He is our choice. We will not accept a substitute. That is all.”

The Chaplain sighed. He was bound by oath to honor their agreement, even if he did have more doubt gnawing at the back of his mind than he was comfortable with. He didn’t have a valid reason, and it was likely nothing, but his instincts about matters like this had served him so well in the past…

Out on the training ground, Brother Lymaan continued to move like a well oiled machine, making head shots and dodging incoming fire. The targets were farther away now, and his time had increased, but he still was making an impressive showing.

“Very well,” the Chaplain told the robed figure, “I shall inform him as soon as he completes the training exercise.” He made the sign of the aquilla with his hands, which the robed figure returned. “The Emperor protects.”

Oh dude, that was great! I love Lymaan, and the format you portrayed him in is brilliant! I'll definitely be adding this in, loved it!

EDIT- Only four slots left guys!

I'd like to write some fluff for Brother Haakon if you still need help. It'll be interesting to do something from the Long Fang-esque Space Wolf Deathwatch marine's perspective.