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OK time for another crazy DIY chapter. And I'm only kind of half joking with this... I mean, I've actually seen this army on tables for several decades, so it must be true!

This is a collection of ideas I put together over the last few years.

Index Astartes: Primer Legion

Forget Dark Angel secrets, Alpha Legion obfuscation, Ultramarine trendsetting, or even Black Templar fanaticism. The real butch balls of the Loyalist Astartes are the ignored and reviled battle brothers of Primer Legion.

You've seen them. You've probably fought them. You might even have fielded them. You thought they were Vanilla Marines or one of the Codex chapters, in a sadly common state of unpainted or barely-painted dishevel. Most of their equipment is taupe, light gray, white, bare metal, and black, patched with adhesive and hard putty. Some of their scavenged vehicles are so makeshift they might even be cardboard.

They frequently battle against Chaos Legion Scratchbuilt, skirmish with Eldar from Craftworlds Pew-Tar and Pollys-Tyrene, slaughter Orks of the Armfalloff Clan, attempt to exterminate Tyranids from Hive Fleet Greenstuff, and occasionally tussle with Dark Eldar from Coven Thinyerpaints.

Belittled and banished from many a tournament, their true, sad, unsung story is a tale of faithfulness and courage to make the Imperial Guard weep. The name Primer Legion is no affectation. Their original members were inducted and blessed on Holy Terra by the Emperor Himself, for they are none other than the "exterminated" and expunged 11th Legion, founded before the Great Crusade.

Or at least, that's what they whisper among themselves. If you would know how these fools dare to make such a claim, read on.

FORMATION OF A LEGEND

The Primarch of the Eleventh was Thatgaius Amongus, of Primius Prime. He alone of the Emperor's engineered progeny failed utterly to fulfill his great destiny. When cast to the stars by the Ruinous Powers, the 11th infant Primarch met with great misfortune. His pod materialized directly in the path of a passing Eldar craftworld, cracking his window and seriously denting the craftworld's front fender. He careened off a Space Hulk and awakened its dormant Genestealer infestation, plowed through an asteroid field, breaking free a long-buried Necron solar-powered subspace alarm clock, then finally plummeted into the moderate-tech Human world of Primius Prime. Blazing through the atmosphere, the badly damaged pod shattered on impact with a dirigible, creating the worst air travel disaster in the planet's history. The naked infant then landed head-down in a local crop field. On a tractor.

The combination of premature system trauma, oxygen deprivation, fire, and impact drastically set back the Primarch's development. His further upbringing in a conservative rural setting finished the job. Upon reaching adulthood in roughly six Terran years (taking twice as long as his brothers), young Thisgaius was fit for only one occupation: radio talk show host.

When the Imperial Legions arrived at Primius Prime and began monitoring all bandwidths, the Emperor was incensed by the pedantic, ignorant tone of the community-funded program "Everything Wrong With Society Today," particularly the strident assertion that the orbital fleet was simultaneously a Hoax By The Commies and a Bunch of Shifty Foreigners Come To Steal Our Jobs. Teleporting directly into the tiny radio station, the Emperor found to his utter shock that the corpulent, unshaven windbag at the microphone was his own son.

After a bit of initial awkwardness wherein Thatgaius called the Emperor a poncy, bling-addicted underwear model, the two began to bond over issues of righteous knowitall-ism, sexism, and extreme bigotry. Thatgaius was thrilled by the gifts of status, power, and a literal army of followers, and so despite clinically dangerous sloth and a great preference for shouting over any decisive action, Thatgaius Amongous joined the Emperor's Great Crusade to Tell Everyone In The Galaxy Exactly How To Do Everything.

THATGAIUS AT WAR

The Emperor was unconcerned with Thatgaius', as he saw it, temporary and circumstantial mental flaws. His physical unfitness was such a severe problem, however, that the Adeptus Mechanicus was commissioned to repurpose ancient STC data to allow the damaged Primarch to leave his planet. Thus was developed the fearsome Rascal Pattern Dreadnaught, making Thatgaius the only Primarch to have served in one. As a prototype, it differed most notably in that its pilot was still alive, sitting in a padded leather armchair, sweaty jowls masked by the fierce helm that would later be used to house sensory machine spirits for decaying bodies animated purely by extreme persistence. So just a small step, really.

Thatgaius renamed his troops Primer Legion, to honor his adopted home, and began recruiting from its yokel population. The legion's initial colors were taupe and cool light gray, chosen, as with all the other starter legions, on Earth by Malcador blindly throwing at a dart board. There was some confusion as to the Legion's initial heraldry. Its placeholder symbol was to be a Roman numeral Eleven (XI) but some Legion servitors instead painted the Arabic eleven (11), so confusing it with the Second (II) Legion. In an attempt to correct this, some chapters of the Eleventh bore the marking "Not 2." Thatgaius further muddled the livery by constantly revising both their official colors and heraldic symbols. Now green and white with a howling wolf, now dark blue with gold wings, now red with a black scowling face, now yellow with a gray letter P. Even during the early Crusade, Primer Legion forces were usually mistaken for battle-damaged and under-repair members of other Legions.

Thatgaius was not a gifted fighter, nor strategist, nor even administrator or politician. He was unshakably convinced in his beliefs and willing to lecture on them excessively, but as his brothers and subordinates soon discovered, these changed at seeming random with no admittance to the fact. Thoroughly Libertarian, but somewhat confused and illogical, Thatgaius stringently enforced not the Imperial Truth, but the Imperial No This Is What I Said, You Weren't Listening. Battles were lost, resources destroyed, fleets misdirected, and planets were converted out of their former compliance to Imperial standards.

Almost worse, Thatgaius was a natural master of the Social Gaffe. He alienated the Adeptus Administratum by responding with accidental non sequiturs to all billing and acquisition comms. He deeply offended the Adeptus Mechanicus by filling his dreadnought with snack wrappers, beer bottles, cigar butts, and crumpled lecture notes - and by failing regular maintenance checks. He incensed the Adeptus Custodes by repeatedly hitting on the female Palace staff. He earned Warmaster Horus' condemnation by never attending all-hands meetings, only sending poorly-prepared proxy figures. That's right, he was even That Guy to War**master Horus. And he deeply unsettled his father the Emperor of Man with his stubborn yet good-natured adherence to the faith he was raised in, the worship of Gawd Ahmighty, the local farming and culture deity of Primius Prime. Periodic "reminder" conversations on Imperial Truth met with absolute agreement that all gods are false, science and reason are achievable and laudable goals, and all Mankind must meet Imperial Compliance. Praise Gawd Ahmighty.

At last, the Emperor had to face the fact that his "slow son" and his legion would never meet expectations. As with everything else that bothered him, the Emperor ordered their complete destruction and refused to speak about it afterward. Due to the perpetual heraldry confusion between the Eleventh and Second Legions, the initial holocaust was somewhat unsuccessful. Some reports indicate that the annihilation of the Second Legion occurred at this time, was purely accidental, and was due entirely to unclear pauldron markings. The Space Wolves, chosen for their willingness to cull the weak, scoured Primius Prime and its surrounding sector, where the most lackluster and lazy forces remained. Hunting expeditions were sent throughout Imperial space, for Russ knew that Primer Legion forces were frequently sent in the wrong direction or in circles. At last, the Wolves' exemplary tracking skills resulted in a 90%+ certainty of mission success. The Emperor signed off, believing he had cut his losses acceptably, but asked his Primarchs just to keep this between you, me, and several thousand Astartes.

POST-EXTERMINATUS

Naturally the Emperor and Russ failed to realize one vital detail. The laziest of Primer Legion were easy to find. The most incompetent were much harder, because even they didn't know where they were. But despite the willfully ignorant society of Primius Prime, Thatgaius' biased recruitment and training policies, the horrific tangled mess of the Legion heirarchy, and perpetually conflicting orders, some professional Astartes-quality recruits slipped in through the cracks. Legion Apothecaries, trained up from truly competent farm veterinarians, preserved enough of the Eleventh Legion's precious geneseed organs on ice. The few commanders who were at least semi competent had already quietly organized into their own independent chapters, located off world in random, hidden monasteries. With the complete destruction of Imperial records on the subject, they were eventually free to slowly, patiently, restore the biosphere of Primius Prime, repopulate their home world, and reform their Legion. Primer Legion, in terms of fielded units, is now one of the largest of the secretly non-Codex compliant, heretical, doesn't actually exist Loyalist Astartes factions, as reconnaissance battle reports, when correctly interpreted, attest.

Their statistics in terms of actual fighting strength might be less impressive. The tireless forces of Primer Legion have struggled on, faithful to the Imperium and its best ideals, shamedly hiding their past and even their present, ready to die in battle to secretly redeem the honor of their foolish Primarch and poor outclassed battle brothers. They are perpetually under-funded by whatever paperwork shell games and fast talk they can pull on the Aministratum, by taxes diverted from worlds as disorganized as they used to be, and even by occasional Rogue Trader casino scams. Scavenge Squads have learned from the resiliency and practicality of Ork Lootas by making the most of their ancient and eclectic supplies, combing through old battle sites whenever possible, and occasionally stooping to more direct tactical acquisition.

The piecemeal forces of Primer Legion refuse glory and even decent support, as a penance for their past. Techmarines trained under the guise of other chapters have learned to spy and spoof telecom channels. Prime Librarians have, by luck and careful planning, even rescued and retained a very few Astropaths from certain death by the enemies of the Imperium, and whose carefully screened cooperation enables unsanctioned monitoring of Imperial communications. In this way, Primer Legion acts as a vigilante force, appearing on site whenever another chapter is too delayed or decimated to arrive.

Wherever Blood Angels are mysteriously undetailed, Ultramarines are inexplicably unarmed (perhaps literally), or marines of unspecified chapter bring suspiciously DIY heavy support, there walk the selfless battle brothers of Primer Legion.

You're welcome.

DATA FILE: PRIMIUS PRIME

Yeah, that planet was burned and purged by the Wolves in the name of the Emprah, and no longer exists. Also, there never was such a planet.

Honestly, not much to say. It was, and still is, such a backwater farm world that the actual planet Backwater is closer to the local Imperium planetary hub than is Primius Prime.

The recovered and fertile planet is now listed in records as Farm World Phargo, colonized and terraformed *after* the Great Crusade as a temporary and only briefly convenient local supply depot.
Imperial supply ships sporadically appear to gather the official food tithe, grudgingly deposit a few mandated deliveries of tech and other supplies such a world requires, and trade news: "Report from Phargo? One of our cows gots the wind. Report from the Imperium? Nothing you really need to know out here. Carry on."

It is important to note that, although everywhere is technically the same distance by warp travel, it is the planet's perceived insignificance that really keeps it cloaked in isolation.

Of course, secretly, it's a hotbed of seditious, well-intentioned vigilantism. Far below the corrugated metal sheds and steaming piles of livestock waste that constitute its power grid, cavernous hive bunkers house gargantuan scrap-sorting yards, welding shops, barracks, and training facilities.

- end file -

THE VISITATION

There is a legend, probably mere rumor, on Primius Prime (I mean Planet Phargo) that one fateful date a Dark Angel cruiser appeared without warning in the twilight sky.

The hidden forces of Primer Legion trembled. Although their numbers were great, their equipment and training were rather sub-par for Astartes. They rightly feared the wrath of the Angels, should they discover the truth and feel offended and dishonored by their craven brothers' secrecy.

With breath held silently as only bio-enhanced Astartes brothers can, the suspiciously large and muscly farmers watched a gilded white shuttle craft descend. Out stepped four full squads of Deathwing honor guard, and then, bathed in writhing steam for some reason, the glorious Dark Angel Chapter Master himself.

The Primer Legion Chapter Master, Count Zasz, clad in his traditional rainment of workday overalls, stepped forward. "Boy howdy there fellah that's one fancy getup. Name's Buck. I'm what passes fer the guv'ner of this here farm. What can we do ye for?"

The dread Angel turned menacingly. "We hear you are keeping... secrets. We have come to find the truth."

Buck hitched up his drooping denim seat, spat out his stalk of space wheat, and nodded. "Well let's have at it then, mister." He knew Primer Legion's time of reckoning had come. If the Angels declared war, so be it, and may the Emperor Amighty forgive the righteous.

Into the pig shed, through the hidden door, and down down down the rickety cargo elevator shaft they went. Veteran of a hundred campaigns, three of them against Tryanids, Buck held the squinty, adamantine glare of his massively armored guest and possible enemy commander.

At last the creaking platform screeched and shuddered to a halt. The doors opened, and revealed the vast echoing hive. Deathwing squads fanned out, scouring tunnels, chambers, mezzanines, warehouses, kitchens, armories, latrines, and bunk rooms. The two commanders stood silent, unmoving, locked eye to eye.

The squads returned with their report. "Nothing, sir. Just discarded junk."

The fearsome leader of the Dark Angels grimaced, then burst out laughing. "Oh, for Emperor's sake! I thought you were hosting Fallen out here! Scrap armor? You'd better melt down all that original-issue Dark Angel gear quick and stop wasting our time. I don't want to have to drag my ass out on another freaking recon mission."

Buck's face split wide and showed off his artificially arranged crooked teeth. "Well why din't you just say so, big guy? Ain't nobody here but us chickens. Now, if'n that ol' tax man hears o' this recycling gig we got, we'll be in a bigger heap o' dung then that one up topside. Any anchient-like sacred 'qipments you wanna take home to make it worth yer time, y'all welcome to!"

The Dark Angels sniffed in destain and stepped en masse back into the elevator. "I wouldn't touch this torn up desecration with a ten foot pole. You plebes live like Orks! We're out of this scraphole."

So goes the joke as told by the brothers of Primer Legion. Both chapters stringently deny such a scene could ever take place.

CODEX: PRIMER LEGION

Colors:
Semi-random patches of light gray, taupe, black, white, dark green. Also random scavenged equipment and damaged armor of other chapters that could not be recovered by their own members. Probably badly painted, too.

Sigil:
None. That's right, our Primarch never made his final decision, and we LIKE it that way!

Battle Cry:
"For the Emperor!"
Original? No. That's the point. They're trying to blend in. If dressed as another chapter, they shout that chapter's battle cry instead.

Chapter organization:

They can't keep a consistent amount of gear and men to follow the standard template. They have too many men and not enough stuff. Lots of them are actual farmers most of the time. Lots of them are out on missions posing as some other chapter and are trying to represent their cover identities. It's a mess.

All they can consistently say is there is a Chapter Master and a random number of companies. Some of them sometimes have their own scouts. Some of them sometimes have heavy support and vehicles. It's the definition of ad hoc. Guilliman is probably rolling over in his stasis field.

On the Table:

Forces follow two basic organization options, depending on stated mission objectives and the additional long-game objectives of the Legion itself.

A: Duplicate someone else's list

Primer forces sometimes masquerade as another Chapter because that's who is supposed to be present, but can't be. Primer Legion steps in. Sometimes that's just the scavenged equipment they have on hand. Whatever the reason, they will follow the force org charts of that Chapter. Some commanders are less OCD about it than others, and may have some looted or nonstandard equipment, so there might be a few "counts as" in the army. And some stuff is still unpainted anyway.

B: The Primer Way

Primer legion also sometimes says F it, and shows up as-is. They still claim to be someone else, but the statement is more transparent. Very few, if any, units appear to have a decent paint job. In reality, they are all wearing proper Primer Legion colors. Frequently the commander will even say "Well, we're definitely NOT Alpha Legion, if you take my meaning, sir." Nudge Nudge.

Special Rules:

When playing more or less as themselves, Primer Legion has a few unusual rules for an Astartes Army.

*Battle Brothers: Blood Axe Kommandoes
- Primer Legion may always ally with Blood Axe Kommandoes. If that's still a thing. Because loot.

*Allies of Convenience: Imperium
- Due to the sketchy nature of Primer Legion's operations, they generally don't tell people who they are. They get by on cool mystery and deception. So any other Imperium forces will be at least a bit leery of them.

* Come the Apocalypse: Adeptus Mechanicus
- Yeah the tech priests won't be tolerating this kind of implicit disrespect to the Machine God. Actually, I'm pretty sure they can't even be allies in a Come the Apocalypse setting.

* Guess Who's Coming To Dinner:
- Buy any units from any Astartes Codex, in any proportion. Give them any equipment you can guess or calculate a cost for. Bikes with conversion beamers. Assault squads with all flamers and multimeltas. Beware the next rule.

* Armed From The Scrap Heap:
- The more unorthodox your weaponry, the greater the chance of failure. An extra number of special weapons in a squad means a weapon breaks on a To Hit roll of 1. Flag that model as now having only a makeshift bludgeon. Having any extra Heavy Weapons means one breaks if it rolls 1 or 2. Carrying or mounting weapons that are clearly OP or too big etc means the weapon breaks AND gives a S4 hit to the model itself, if its attack roll is 1 or 2. Armor and Invulnerable saves may be taken. Why not.

* How Hard Can This Be To Use?:
- Take scavenged Imperial Guard vehicles or heavy support. Man them with Primer Scouts or Primer Techmarines. If its attack rolls 1 or 2, the weapon breaks as above.
- Take stolen Adeptus Mechanicus vehicles or heavy support. Man them with Primer Techmarines. If its attack roll is 1, 2, or 3, it breaks AND causes a Sx+2 hit in an x" radius template, where x is the weapon's normal attack strength.

* Scratch-Built Proxy Atrocities:
- If a machine, vehicle, or dreadnaught has a duct-tape, Orky quality, and is not at all what the thing normally looks like (nor a beautifully finished and plausible alternate design) then in addition to the above, roll 1d6 at the end of each Primer Legion turn. On a 3 or less, it breaks. If it has heavy weapons or is one, it explodes with Sx+2 hit in an x" radius as above.

* Primer Than Thou
- Whatever unit the Primer Chaplain is with also gets Furious Charge and Feel No Pain as he berates them to "walk it off."

* Rascal Pattern Dreadnaught
- The Rascal pattern, unlike its successors, was designed for a living (though lazy) pilot. It was also designed to fit down grocery store aisles and under the awnings of fast food establishments. It is therefore much smaller than the more common Dreadnaughts, closer in size to a Centurion. Also, instead of legs it has a three wheeled scooter. But it still counts as a Walker, because it has arms.

Rascal Dreadnought: 110 pts

Ws 4
Bs 4
S 5
Fa 12
Sa 10
Ra 10
I 4
A 2
Hp 3

WARGEAR:
Sawn Off Mega Shotgun
R 18" S5 Ap6+
Assault 2

Power Bottle Opener
R - S+3 Ap3+
Melee, Specialist, Unwieldy

Cigar Smoke Launchers
Same as usual smoke Launchers, but stinkier.

Military Grade Ultra Bright Tactical LED Flashlight
Removes 1 PT of cover save from targets.

Handicapped Parking Placard
Gives the Rascal Patten Dreadnought the Infiltration rule.


*Chapter Master: Count Zasz!
- The supreme leader of the bedraggled and stoic Primer forces uses the hereditary title of the premier noble family of Primius Prime, although sparse records seem to indicate all the actual members of the Primius nobility died in the Emperor's exterminatus. Keep in mind the kind of redneck podunk long-walk-from-the-interstate planet we're talking about here. So the premeir family estate was the one with the largest mobile home and greatest number of derelict pickup trucks parked outside.
Just use the generic Astartes chapter master stats. This entry is just for the name, y'all.

*Astropath Intelligence
- Before set up or game play begins, but after you determine which player goes first, roll 1d6. On a 5 or 6, your subversive Astropath informants have leaked some Imperial classified data about your opponent's forces. You may begin one unit in Deep Strike Reserve that is not normally allowed to do so, because of this data. On a roll of 6, you may start one entire formation in Deep Strike Reserve.

*Farm animals
- Coming from a world that is still mostly farmland and low in industrial resources, Primer Legion is frequently reduced to "les equipments tres primitive." Bring out some cheap plastic farm animal figures. Use them as cover, ammunition, extra rations, decoys. Make up some stats on the fly. Nobody's ever going to let you field Primer Legion anyway. They don't even have to be to scale. Because mutant space cows.

SO there you have it. My masterpiece of psychotic Warhammer fluff. Now that you have seen this file, the Inquisition should arrive any minute to purge your planet.

May the Emperor have mercy on your soul.

(He won't.)

This is actually one of the funniest things I've read in a while.

Yeah this made me laugh. I would love to see a botched up rascal patten dreadnought. Imagining a fat Nurgle marine on a mobility scooter with maybe a laser pointer taped on one side and a key ring bottle-opener on the other.

Don't forget the leviathan siege rascal dreadnought.