Hello everyone! Before starting the story i'd just want everyone to know that this is the story on my Wrath and Glory character Commissar David Florian. Somehow he managed to survive two W&G campaigns and so I decided to flush out his character a little. For those who don't know, W&G is the new warhammer RPG, like Dark Heresy, Only War, and Black Crusade. Except it uses a D6 system instead of D100. In my opinion the D6 system is far better. But on to the more important stuff. I will do my best to make this a proper story, but don't expect super long chapters and extreme character development. This will start out as Florian explaining his past as if he was talking to someone in a bar or something before I catch up to where the first W&G campaign starts, that's when it will become more of a proper story. That may change though depending on how I feel after writing this AN, so lets hope I can figure out how to explain why he's talking of his past. Please enjoy this story and I greatly appreciate constructive criticism.
"Astartes talking"
"Comms and vox"
"Astartes on vox"
"So Commissar, from where do you hail. If I am to fight by your side I wish to know who I fight with." A blood angels assault marine sergeant asked me. I had been reassigned from the world of Armageddon to a kill team of astartes, they needed someone who could negotiate without intimidating anyone to death and the rogue trader who requested us picked me specifically. Why, I have now clue, I never met any rogue traders in my military carrier.
I looked to him with mild surprise, I had met many astartes on Armageddon but none had ever initiated conversation with me. I cleared my throat, " I am commissar David Florian of the Armageddon 332nd Mechanized infantry. At your service my lord." I nodded and gave a small bow in respect for him. I looked around the cabin of the void ships personnel hold we were in, it had been the first time I had ever been in the presence of so many different marine chapters at one. I recognized only three of the five different chapters.
There was a deathwatch tactical, the heraldry on his right pauldron claimed he originated from the Dark Angels chapter. Then there was a salamander chaplain, a large and intimidating figure in ancient terminator armor that looked as if he was from when the Emperor walked among mortal men. Then there was the blood angel sitting besides me to my right. he had a bionic left leg as well as heraldry and honors on his armor that said he was of the rank of Astartes sergeant. The remaining two I couldn't recognize, the one secluded in the far left corner was a librarian of sorts, I could tell from the psykic hood above his helmet. He had an Aquila hanging above two chains from his power armors generator on his back, he also held an ancient staff. The only thing that stood out most was, unlike the rest of the space marines, he had no obvious heraldry, or chapter honors, anywhere on his person. The final marine was a hulking terminator in equally as ancient armor as the salamander, same model as well, except he had a cyclone missile launcher mounted above, painted an a shiny chrome like blue. He carried a heavy flamer and a power fist for his armaments.
"I know who you are commissar. I wish to know more about you as a man. One doesn't just survive over seventy Terran years of combat on Armageddon without being someone of interest." He removed his helmet and looked me in the eye, I had never before seen an astartes without a helmet before. He had sharp blue eyes and short blonde hair. As well as a surprisingly warm, human smile, not what I had expected from the emperors angels of death. "I am sergeant Armello, I have served in the adeptus astrtes for over four hundred Terran years. I served on several crusades, as well as Cadia. Even the defense in some of the Cadian Gates border systems after the rift. Now I ask again commissar David, who are you?"
"My apologies lord Armello, but its a long tale that i'm sure you have heard many times. i'm nobody special, I assure you. Just a commissar who's getting to old for his own good." I tried to be polite, but I truly just did not wish to talk of my past. It a painful one to recall. To his credit, he wasn't buying my deflection of his question. I herd the Chaplain speak up from across me. "I have read you're records commissar, and I to am curious. It is unusual for a mortal to survive as many combat missions as you have. Worry not about time either, we are still half a days trip from the Divitias Multas, I am sure you wouldn't mind entertaining us with you're tale commissar. I would be most thankful for a cure to the awkward silence that seems to have befallen this ship." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Of course my lord, From what point of time would you like me to start? On Armageddon, I would assume?" The salamander shook his head. "I would like to here it from the very beginning, I want your life story, I guess you could say."
"Of course my lord, if you wish I have almost my whole life recorded on this notebook, an old friend of mine, told me that writing a journal of your life can help with the stress of war." I handed him the journal. He refused to take it. "Read it to us yourself commissar, I wish for you to tell me yourself, so Armello and I may both listen, apologies for making such an odd request." It was a bit odd to be asked to read my journal to the astarties, they were the only two I could see listening to me so I guess it wouldn't harm anything.
I have faced many enemies of man, from the barbaric orks, to the traitors of the arch enemy, as well as the monstrosities that come with. I was born on some world in the ass end of the imperium. My parents were hive scum that amounted to nothing, when I was born they celebrated with the accidental overdose of some narcotic, and I was sent to the schola progenium after the neighbors complaint about the noise to the arbitrators. For the best I'd wager. It was thanks to this I would grow up as Commissar David Florian, a name I was given by my adopted father. A name that would strike fear in the traitor, and inspire hope and bravery in the loyal. Far better than David Dunsville. When I was of age to determine what path I wished to follow in the emperors services, to be a tempestus scion, or a member of the Commissariat. I was never the best soldier, I still admit my lack of skill on the battle field. But what l lacked in battle prowess I more than made up for in tactical knowledge and the ability to inspire those around me to greater heights. Or so I was told by my betters. So I chose to be the man who would guide the emperors hammer. To insure the imperium's first line of defense would stand tall against any who opposed it. I chose to be a political officer, in the Commissariat.
After graduating top of my class in the schola progenium, I was given the choice to choose what regiment I wished to be assigned to. Though I decided to follow my instructor, and father figure admittedly, Lord Commissar Jackson Florian, it was he who practically raised me, he who taught me to fight, to pray, everything. I wished to serve alongside him in the field of battle, to prove myself mostly. He had been requested to lead a Penal Legion after our graduation. Though, I wasn't the only one to join him. My closest friend, and brother in all but blood, Julius Gloria. He was a similar case to me, though he was from Maccrage. His parents were caught in a scandal after having been reported to the adeptus astartes and he was the one to sell them out. He always did have a strong sense of justice, if naive at times. From what he had told me, he requested a chance to redeem his family name in service to the emperor, in the Commissariat, specifically. Where his grandfather had served and died. His remaining family, that was proven innocent, pulled as many strings as possible to allow this, after all, what noble family wouldn't want the inheritor of the family fortune out of the way.
Julius and I had both been raised by the lord commissar, the old man always said he wanted kids, but the emperor had other plans, I remember him talking of a lover a long time ago, when Julius and I were teens, and sneaked into his office to get get his keys, so we could go hit the nearest hive city and try to meet some nice girls, but he had somehow known and was waiting for us, that's when I saw an old photo of the two of them. I never asked about her, but he had noticed my attention was on the picture, not the lecture we were being given. That's when he told us of how cruel the galaxy truly was. I had never, seen him cry, but he came close when he recalled those memories. I will never, forget what he told us that day, or the ass whooping we were given for attempting to sneak out. Sometimes I can still feel the shock baton. After graduation me and Julius were sent to the penal legion with him, we had officially become junior commissars, serving under lord commissar Jackson Florian in the 552nd redemption corps, a fancy name for scum with guns and lives to spend in hopes of redemption. Usually at least. The 552nd was a special case. They were an imperial guard regiment from the hive world Stellarian prime, only a month prior, their commanding officers decided to join the rebellion they had been sent to crush without telling the troops, instead they told the troops that the rebellion had already taken the planet, and they were being sent to defend another planet in the system. They turned they're weapons on the imperium not knowing they were fighting their own brothers in arms.
Luckily they found out sooner than the traitors anticipated and immediately killed the higher ups that had tricked them. Even luckier for them that Militarum command was in a forgiving mood. And was in need of cannon fodder elsewhere. Though half of the regiment had been killed by inspecting commissars because they were seen as untrustworthy. A good 5675 men were deemed worthy of redemption in death. They were stripped of equipment and sent to the battle field with only the clothes on their back and a las gun in hand. The lucky ones got to keep their roles in the legion, sergeants were made into enforcers, specialist into suicide squads, the only officer to have not been part of the conspiracy was a lieutenant by the name of Benson. He was made the honorary leader of the penal legion, other than the commissars, who actually out ranked him. They were good soldiers, if unfortunate ones.
I had been ordered to oversee the troops morale. This may have been a penal legion, but Jackson had always taught us to care for your troops. And so they would care for you. Eventually you will form an unbreakable bond in the furnace of war. And if that bond was forged, there was nothing that could stand in your way. Be it green skin to daemon, you would prevail. I had gotten to know some of them well. Apparently, most had been moisture farmers and wild borkskane hunters before the recruitment lottery had chosen them. Of course we'd get the odd one out who voluntarily enlisted, but he only joined to escape the local hive gang because he slept with the leaders daughter. Henry died doing what he loved in the end.
Our first few campaigns had been simple. We spear headed the assault on a Xenos pirate staging ground. The infamous Eldar lived up to the horrid stories of what they did to those captured. I can still here the screams of the poor souls. Jackson had ordered us to grand them the emperors peace when we could. It was my first time ever killing a human being. I would never forget that. The next campaign had been small. Another pirate raid, this time orks. Then crushing a world into submission after they refused to pay for the tithe. The death world of Suxius Prime, where everything but the air had teeth and hungered for flesh, reports say something had actually eaten an Aquila transport whole, all hands lost. We hadn't truly understood war until we landed on that emperor forsaken world. The only reason we hadn't bombarded it into submission was because it produced an unusually high amount of promethium. Half the beasts on that rock practically bled the damned stuff. So command decided it was worth 3 regiments to take back. A regiment of Elysium drop troops. A regiment of Paragonian mechanized infantry. As well as the 552nd Penal Legion.
Regrettably, due to the fact a third of the planet was flammable we weren't permitted flamers, artillery, or air support. Else we would be at risk of blowing up the refinery equipment as well as ourselves, special weapons were very limited as well. We were permitted long las's, and grenade launchers with only frag, photon, and smoke grenades available. Heavy weapons were auto cannons and heavy stubbers, solid rounds only. Heavy Bolters would risk chain reactions in the promethium deposits as world was the definition of hell in my younger years in the commissariat. It wasn't until Armageddon, that I truly new what hell was. But to this day that world haunts me, to this day I still hear the screams of men being melted from the inside out. But the one thing that I will never forget, the one thing that constantly reminds of it, was the loss of someone close, and the betrayal of another.
Well that's all I have for now, I decided to have him be telling his team his story because it was the only thing that came to mind. Sorry if it wasn't the best start but this was more of a prologue than a chapter. I plan to have a full chapter out by next Saturday at latest.