Space Wolves – Executioners and Enforcers
"There is a savagery to them, but it is not ignoble. They adorn themselves in animal bones and trinkets, but do not let this barbaric appearance deceive you. They kill, they destroy, but they do so not out of wanton desire for such things, but rather exalting in their loyal service to the Emperor. They know they are not the empire builders of the Ultramarines or the beloved crusaders of the Luna Wolves, but they do not want this, rather they will act as the Emperor's strong right hand and ensure that His Will is followed, no matter the cost."
-Remembrancer Quentyn Vaun's personal diary, written in the One Hundred and Ninety-Seventh Year of the Great Crusade.
Origins-
Few worlds are as perilous as Fenris. The indomitable forest of Catachan, the poisonous air of Barbarus, and the rad-wastes of Baal Secundus rank high amongst the Imperium's host of Death Worlds, but pale when set against the icy world that would become home to the Emperor's Sixth Son.
Upon arriving to Fenris, the Sixth Primarch's life-pod crashed into the storm-churning ocean, nearly ending his life. But the demigod within was meticulously designed and gene-forged by the Emperor of Mankind and was crafted to survive far worse.
The longship bucked as another tentacle latched onto the mast, preventing escape. Thengir cursed as he swung his sword against the taut, writhing flesh but all he was able to accomplish was some spilled blood and torn skin, only angering the beast. The tentacle tightened, causing splinters to scatter about, as another two rose from the ice-water and crashed into the ship, sending a dozen men overboard to their deaths. Thengir swung his blade with all his strength against the bloodied limb, severing it from the body. A roar of hunger and hate spilled from the kraken's mouth, deafening all on board temporarily. More and more of the ship began to break off, filling nearby water with iron and wood, joining the remains of the five ships already destroyed.
Thengir roared back in defiance, though his hearing was slow to return. Throat becoming ragged, he rushed another tentacle but a flick from it sent him tumbling to the edge. Catching himself just in time, he hung for dear life over the water, waiting for the kraken to rise and engulf him with its fangs.
But it did not. Instead the kraken tentacles withdrew rapidly. Crew members took hold of his arms and dragged him to safety. Their gazes were of shock, and turning around Thengir saw why.
A boy stood atop the kraken, jagged iron beam in hand as a makeshift spear. The boy yelled, but it was not weak as to be expected from one so young but strong as the unmoving rockwall of Asaheim. The spear was raised and plunged into one of the kraken's eyes. Blood gushed from the wound and the sea beast wailed in pain. Tentacles reached for the attacker, but he deftly avoided all that neared him, further wounding the kraken with piercings of iron. Rushing to the other side of its head, the boy speared the lone remaining eye, blinding the creature.
Krakens were resilient predators and continued to fight, the battle lasting several more minutes, but it was not in doubt any longer. The kraken was dead and began to sink. The boy reached down into its maw and pulled two fangs from its maw. He swam over to the ship, pulled up by amazed deck hands.
"Who are you," Thengir asked. No response. "I am King Thengir of the Russ. Who are you, young warrior?"
The boy did not answer, perhaps he did not know how. His long honeyed blond hair hung thickly from his scalp. Frost blue eyes looked at them all. The boy appeared juvenile, but already stood almost as tall as they. They felt a compulsion to submit to the youngling. Though he had appeared to have witnessed far fewer winters than they, he was undoubtedly the alpha, the two kraken teeth, one in each hand, merely encouraged that thought.
The storm churned around them, the blood of the kraken being washed by relentless sky water. The men tilted their heads in respect, honouring the boy's strength. Thengir moved to him, raising the warrior's hand in the air and the crew yelled together.
"Hjolda!"
Thunder echoed and lighting struck, signalling the arrival of the demigod.
After defeating the kraken, one of Fenris' most dangerous predators, and saving a longship of humans the Sixth Primarch was adopted by their leader, King Thengir of the Russ. As the young demigod settled in among humankind he learned language, customs, traditions and the fortitude of his adopted people.
Those first few years were spent with expansion and supremacy of the Russ Tribe over dozens of rivals that it fought with for control over territory and foodstuffs. However, the primarch felt a lacking within him, his soul urging him to venture out into the wilderness, to embrace his inner wolf.
Thengir, King of the Russ, moved towards the oceanfront. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he moved. The sounds of celebration came from behind. The subjugation of the Dagamar Tribe was being celebrated, as was their integration into the Russ. But thoughts of victory were hard to think of at the moment.
Nearing the giant of a man, who kneeled untying the docked ship, Thengir looked at his son. Within a few short years they had expanded the tribe's territory and resources but Leman had been distant as of late, bothered by something within. The relative easy cascading of the Worldsea's waves against the rock provided peaceful background noise to counter the raucous clamour coming from behind.
"Are you sure, my son?" he spoke. The giant did not turn in surprise; his hearing was far superior and likely heard his approach long before Thengir even saw him.
"Yes," came the richly intoned words from Leman. The tall, broad shouldered warrior with long honey blond hair stood near the port, ready to embark on his ship.
"Where will you go?" Thengir asks as he moves to his son's side, his body beginning to endlessly ache as the years passed. Hair, once rich brown, now matted grey turning to white.
Leman pondered the question for a moment. "I will go where I am needed. I will explore this world, for if we are to unite it, I must first know its heart before the fires of war spread over it and mould it to our vision." Leman looks at Thengir. "I will return, and when I do, we will finish what we started."
"The Great Year nears its end, the journey will be treacherous as the time of fire and water come about."
Leman nodded at this, unworried.
"Then fate be with you Leman of the Russ. And come back home."
What followed after the primarch left his tribe for adventure is described in detail in Gnauril the Elder's saga, The Ascension of the Wolf-King. Such deeds as uprooting a Fenrisian oak tree with his bare hands and breaking it across his knees, visiting hundreds of tribes to know their ways and people, and hunting the most deadly predators of the Death World. Wrestling Great White Bears, to hunting Ice Fiends and more are noted in the chronicle. But the most famous was the kinship forged with the wolves.
On his way home after years of travelling the world Russ' ship became wrecked on a newly formed island. The island, created as a result of the tumultuous end of a Great Year, began to rebuild his ship to return home. But the island was populated by dozens of large Fenrisian Wolves and conflict between the two seemed inevitable as food supplies dwindled. But when the wolves and Russ came face to face, they saw each other as kin rather than enemies. For a time, to better acknowledge and embrace the wolf within him, Russ stayed on the island for most of a Great Year. There he not only gained the trust and kinship of the apex predators, but also became the alpha male of the pack. As the world once again neared the Wolf's Eye, Russ' ship was finished and he left for home, the cargo holds filled with his newfound brothers and sisters.
When he returned to the lands of Russ, he found devastation and ruin. Since the departure of the primarch, his tribe and its allies had come under assault by others wary of the King Thengir's foster son. Their hope was to destroy the Tribe of Russ before the primarch returned but this was dashed when the demigod joined battle alongside his new pack mates. Accompanying them to war were the dozens of wolves brought from the island and fought against the enemies of Russ with feral satisfaction.
As the smoke and sound of war receded, and his tribe stood victorious, the primarch discovered that his father King Thengir had died, dead mere hours before the primarch arrived. This fact would haunt the primarch for the rest of his life, knowing that his father had died when he needed him most and he far away.
For the tribe being saved and wolves fighting beside him, Leman Russ gained the title of Wolf King. Gathering his people, the Wolf King led a crusade across the planet that united all the tribes and established a formal peace. Many were welcomed with open arms, others won with the primarch's charisma, while some were conquered. Within a few years the entirety of Fenris flew the banner of the Wolf King.
With Fenris now united behind the Wolf King, life moved onward past the constant tribal warfare. For a time, Fenris knew peace and prospered as well as it could. Trade boomed and lives improved but Russ quickly becoming bored. The wolf within demanded action yet there naught to do but go on hunts and more adventures while still governing his people.
During the fifth celebration of the planet's unification, a stranger in unadorned robes appeared in the Wolf King's court, demanding that Russ swear allegiance to him. Russ laughed and stated the stranger must win that allegiance via by winning three challenges. The stranger agreed. The first was an eating contest, and though the stranger ate many times his apparent weight, the Wolf King had eaten twice as much. The stranger conceded defeat, and the second challenge was started. Both were to drink the strong mjod ale, a beverage strong enough to intoxicate Russ. Both drank for hours until the cellars ran dry, with the primarch having beaten the stranger by a mere two cups.
For the third and final challenge there was to be a duel, a clash of arms. It was here the stranger discarded his robes, revealing to all that he was the Emperor of Mankind. Russ and the Emperor fought briefly before Russ was defeated, knocked unconscious by the Emperor. When Russ awoke later that day he laughed and pledged his service to the Emperor who revealed to Russ that He was the primarch's true father.
Russ was taken off-world and introduced to his sons within a month of leaving Fenris. Russ was impressed by his sons and thusly renamed the Sixth Legion the Vlka Fenryka, or Wolves of Fenris. Due to a translation error the name appears as Space Wolves in nearly all Imperial records and they are called as such by all but themselves. In his absence, Fenris' brief unity shattered and the never ending war between tribes began anew. When the Emperor queried on whether or not His son would stop this, Russ said he would not; rather he wanted Fenris to continue producing hardy warriors for the VI and the Imperium, the most efficient way was for his homeworld to remain harsh and unforgiving, rife with war and hardship.
Months after being found and reunited with his father, Russ met his brother Horus for the first time. Being the only two primarchs discovered at the time, it was a cause for great joy and camaraderie. Both brothers became fast friends, enjoying the similarities between their characters and their Legions, from naming to iconography. With two of the primarchs by His side, the Emperor and the Expeditionary Fleets rapidly pushed the boundaries of the new born Imperium.
Great Crusade-
As the Imperium expanded, the other primarchs were discovered and introduced to their gene-sons. With each demigod united with his progeny, the Imperium surged in size and strength. During the Crusade, Russ fought alongside several of his brothers, befriending some, and making rivals of others. On the world of Dulan, the VI would fight beside the First Legion. The world's ruler, whose name and title have been lost to history, insulted the Wolf King. Russ vowed to personally kill the tyrant, and attacked the planet with his typical frontal assault tactics. As the days stretched into weeks, and casualties amongst the Wolves mounting, the Dark Angels arrived with their primogenitor.
After studying the situation, the First Primarch launched a strike at the despot's palace, just as the Wolves were breaking through its defences. Russ entered the throne room in time to see the Lion decapitate the insulter, angering Russ who saw it as a slight. Russ advanced upon his brother and they began to brawl, lasting days without pause until Russ realised how foolish their fight was and stopped, roaring with laughter. The Lion, thinking the laugh was a slight directed against him, punched his unprepared brother, knocking him out for a day. By the time Russ awoke, the Dark Angels were gone, and thus the rivalry was born. This gave birth to the tradition of a non-fatal duel between champions from both gene-lines, one that has continued into the 41st millennium. Despite this violent start and the competition that followed, a modicum of respect between the Legions began and would carry over when they became Chapters.
Though most of the Space Wolves history of compliance and campaigning is well-documented, there are two instances when the Sixth Legion was deployed and returned to the Imperium with their numbers much reduced. This forced the Wolves to curtail operations for several years until they properly recovered. It is unknown who the Wolves were unleashed against, but no information could be found, and any hints of what the actions entailed have been locked away by the Emperor. The other primarchs seemed to have known about the two campaigns, but were sworn to secrecy by their father, something which they followed even when some rebelled against Him during the Heresy. Once their ranks had been replenished, Russ and his sons rejoined the Crusade.
Out of all the compliance campaigns initiated by the Sixth Legion, the Compliance of Aghoru is one of the more significant. It was here where elements from the Space Wolves and the Thousand Sons would come into open and nearly disastrous disagreement for the first time. Long had the two gene-lines disliked the other, the XV seeing the VI as uncouth barbarians while the Fenrisians saw their Prosperine cousins as meddlers in dark sorcery, better known as maleficarum to sons of the Wolf King. It was on this planet where a taskforce from the Fifteenth Legion brought the world into the Imperium via peaceful diplomacy.
Aghoru had long ago fallen into superstition and regressed technologically. Once ruled by a race of beings called the Elohim (possibly an offshoot of the Eldar), the humans on the planet were in a pre-industrial state of development. A legend on the world, whispered by a fearful populace, spoke of malevolent spirits residing in 'the Mountain' named Daeisthai, Elohim who had fallen to self-obsession and darkness. Magnus the Red was fascinated by the Mountain and its tomb of dormant Daeisthai. Tragedy came when Captain Khalophis of the Sixth Fellowship accidentally awoke the Daeisthai from their centuries' long slumber. This resulted in the Battle of Containment. Over a thousand Astartes of the XV were planet-side with their primarch, and hundreds more were in orbit. Realising that he would need more legionnaires to combat this threat that was psychic in nature, the Crimson King sent astropathic communiques to nearby star systems where Thousand Son detachments were located, ordering them to Aghoru for reinforcement.
Magnus had hoped to halt the Daeisthai threat and carefully purge the Mountain, wishing to preserve its architecture and boundless historical significance for cultural study and examination. This would not come to pass as a squadron of Space Wolf warships enacting compliance on a nearby world intercepted the message, and after decoding it the Fenrisian Space Marines knew that the psychic beasts on Aghoru came from Hel and were maleficarum. Realising that Magnus would not do what was necessary to prevent a gateway to Hel opening the blue-grey Astartes rushed to Aghoru.
Once arrived, instead of sending their squads to reinforce the surface, the Space Wolf officer informed the Thousand Sons' Primarch that an orbital bombardment was to occur by standing order of Leman Russ. Magnus ordered the Space Wolves to stand down, but they refused.
Pack Master Garrek Redstone stared out his strike cruiser's main view-screen. 'The Mountain' as it was called was truly immense, more piercing than the Fang and even broader than Olympus Mons. It was a natural beauty but unfortunately it was tainted. Turning to look at the brother beside him, adorned in armour covered in wolf pelts and protective runes, he raised a thick eyebrow.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
The Rune Priest Yaelfalk Largennensson turned his head towards his pack master. Wolf and eagle bones hung around his neck, the animals of Fenris and the Allfather's Realm giving the wearer some protection against dark magicks and Helspawn.
"Aye, I am, pack master. The world reeks of maleficarum. Magnus' sorcerers cannot see it as we do for they bathe in its damning energy. Russ' will on what to do when such a breach into Hel is discovered is well known. We must do it."
Redstone nodded. He looked to the vox kaerl. The mortal bowed in respect, but noted the man's scent was awash with worry. Magnus had continued to hail them since Redstone informed the crimson primarch of what was to happen out of necessity. The Fifteenth Son had ordered him to stand down, but Redstone answered only to the Leman Russ and the Allfather. What the Wolves did was for the betterment and safety of Mankind, but the Cyclops could only see his tomes of knowledge and the possible benefit they could bring, ignoring the dangers inherent in them. Redstone had given the primarch five hours to withdraw, who had only begun to do so two hours ago.
The strike cruiser Juelknof and its five escorts put themselves into their final positions for bombardment. The Prosperine battle-barge Scion of Tizca neared them, torpedo tubes open, laser clusters, lance batteries, and plasma cannons facing the Vlka Fenryka warships but they did not lock onto them, nor were their energy weapons warmed to fire. An unsubtle threat, but empty in its lethality.
Redstone moved to the command dais. "Open a channel, all frequencies."
The vox kaerl complied.
"Attention all Thousand Son and Imperial personnel, I am Garrek Redstone, pack master of the Wolves of Fenris. By the will of Leman Russ the Wolf King, Lord of Winter and War, and the Emperor's Enforcer, I hereby order the bombardment of the world known as Aghoru. A link to Hel has been identified and must be severed before a gateway opens. The bombardment will commence in precisely one minute. For Russ and the Allfather!"
At a gesture, the link was cut. As the sixty seconds passed, Redstone noted nine dropships hastily emerging from Aghoru's atmosphere, one identified as the primarch's personal Stormbird. Defiant until the end, he thought.
"Three…" intoned the first kaerl, the ship's mortal master, "two… one…" He looked to Redstone, who spoke the order.
"Fire."
Beams of deadly energy were fired, hitting the Mountain instantly, hundreds of missiles and torpedoes following. Many were simple high explosives, others incendiary. For over three hours the six warships unleashed their payloads against their target. Rock crumbled, stone broke, rivers and trees disappeared in ferocious assault. Cogitator-controlled recon craft transmitted data to the Wolves' ships, noting the Helspawn dying and being sent back to their cold realm. The Mountain began to collapse unto itself, sending significant amounts of dust into the air that would cool the planet for decades to come, killing much of the fauna and flora, as well as most of the human population.
The last ten missiles fired were atomic-tipped warheads. Ten mushroom clouds lit up the Juelknof's displays. Redstone watched as the fires dimmed but knew the inferno below would rage for days to come, the irradiated dust mingling with the wing to carry death across the world.
"It is done. Set a course for Aravea. I will inform Russ myself of this… incident." The pack master left the bridge, heading towards his chambers. The Rune Priest followed, sending muttered prayers to Mother Fenris.
Before the bridge doors closed, he saw scores of dropships and transports leaving XV starships. Search and rescue efforts, most like. Admirable, but was it done out of humanitarian concerns, or was it done to cover up guilt? It was because of the faults of the Thousand Sons that the world would die a slow death as nuclear winter arrived in the weeks and months to come.
Redstone knew, as the doors closed and he resumed his march to the intra-ship lift, that the relationship between the Rout and the Thousand Sons had become ever more brittle and strained.
The destruction of the Mountain caused an ecological chain reaction that caused Aghoru to enter a nuclear winter that would last over three hundred years. Magnus, enraged and shocked by the apparent callousness of the Wolves, contacted his brother and urged him to punish the legionnaires. Russ did no such thing, even going so far as to commend and honour the Wolves that participated in the action. Petitions from Magnus to his father were met with silence.
Magnus fumed, but could do little as the Great Crusade required his attention. Settling the surviving Aghoru population on other habitable worlds was the only victory in the Crimson King's eyes, but even that was pyrrhic at best. Magnus ordered the XV to avoid fighting beside the Space Wolves at all costs, an order that would endure the remainder of the Crusade, barring several exceptions. It would be several decades, but the Thousand Sons and Space Wolves would cross paths again, despite their efforts.
The Ark Reach Cluster was a confederacy of militant worlds that had been able to hold off Imperial Army offensives in their tracks for years. The Emperor, irritated that such a small empire dared to defy Him, ordered the three closest Legions nearby to conquer the Cluster and bring it to compliance. The Legions in question were the Word Bearers, the Thousand Sons, and the Space Wolves, all led by their respective primarchs.
In the joint campaign the strengths of all three Legions were used. The Word Bearers persistence and unwavering belief in victory, the Thousand Sons sorcerous powers, and the Space Wolves battle prowess. The Ark Reach military resisted fiercely using foul psionic weaponry but were ultimately defeated on a half dozen worlds. At first, all appeared well with the Imperium's forces. Lorgar acted as the mediator between his brothers, ensuring the campaign ran smoothly. It was on the capital world of Ark Reach Secundus where this uneasy peace fell apart.
During the final assault on Secundus' last holdouts as elements from all three Legions overcame the defences and swarmed into the city proper, a Thousand Son officer named Captain Aethor Raza began to lose control of his psyker powers, his body mutating as more and more warp energy coursed through it. The Immaterium's energy killed dozens of nearby Space Wolves. As Raza's situation worsened and began to spread to nearby XV legionnaires, Russ arrived and swiftly executed the mutating Astartes before they became consumed by the warp entirely. Magnus, who had rushed to aid his sons, found them butchered by his wolf brother. The Wolf King tried to explain what had occurred, but Magnus would not hear of it. It took Lorgar's mediating and calming tone to prevent more bloodshed being spilled between the VI and XV.
Russ, wishing to avoid more conflict, ordered the Rout to withdraw from Ark Reach Secundus, leaving the post-compliant duties to the Word Bearers. Magnus and Russ would not speak again until Nikaea.
Nikaea-
Much happened in the months after Ark Reach Secundus: the Ullanor Crusade and subsequent Triumph, the ascension of Horus to Warmaster, and the Emperor's announcement of His imminent return to Terra. Before the Emperor retired from the frontlines, Russ urged his father to call a conclave to settle the matter of psykers. The Emperor, beset from both sides, agreed to decide once and for all Imperial policy over psychic powers.
On the world of Nikaea, thousands of Imperial administrators, bureaucrats, and military commanders met alongside representatives from a majority of the Legiones Astartes, including several primarchs. The pro-psyker faction was led by Magnus, the anti-psyker faction led by Leman Russ and Corvus Corax.
For hours both sides made their arguments but it remained a stalemate. Russ went before his father and spoke of how Magnus' hubris and careless pursuit of knowledge had led to disaster several times. Corax followed up on this detailing the countless worlds his Raven Guard had come across that had suffered under the yoke of psychic overlords or made a barren wasteland because of them.
As the debate's arguments began to escalate, several Space Marine Librarians approached the Emperor. They spoke passionately and convincingly of the benefits of psykers, of how those properly trained had allowed the Imperium to win battle after battle with their gifts alone. After this speech, the Emperor made His decision, a decision which would be known as the Librarian Compromise. The Librarius corps would remain, though more supervision and restrictions would be implemented. In spite of this acceptance, the Thousand Sons and their primogenitor would be censored and ordered to cease their extensive study of the Immaterium and their acquisition of dangerous warp-artefacts, much to their chagrin and shame. Thus the Edict of Nikaea was put into effect.
Though Russ pushed for the dismantlement of the Librarians, he felt that the Compromise was satisfactory and the threat that they represented to the Imperium was minimalised. In response to the vocal disagreement and visible disgruntlement of the Fifteenth Legion, Russ despatched dozens of agents to spy on the Thousand Sons. He knew his brother Magnus had done the same to him, allowing Russ to use Magnus' primary spy as a double agent.
"Will he follow it?" asked Kasper Hawser, standing near the hearth, attempting to warm himself in the Fenrisian winter.
"He must," muttered Aun Helwintr, Rune Priest of Tra. The Priest looked out from the Aett's plexiglass windows. Kilometres above the frost-covered landscape of Asaheim, he could see the bulk of the Vlka Fenryka's fleet in near-orbit. Resupply, rearmament and modifications were underway, prepping the Rout for war. The Wolf's Eye began to set upon the horizon, the land coloured in the shade of blood.
Hawser glanced at the Space Wolf, whose features were sad and heavy.
"If he does not, what will you do?" Hawser knew, but he had to hear it, to know that the Wolves would do what they have done before. He felt compelled.
Helwintr smiled but his face became sadder. "We will do what we have always done and ensure the Emperor's Will is enforced, no matter the cost."
"Even if it leads to conflict?"
"Yes, even then."
The Eye dipped below the horizon, bathing the land in darkness.
For a time, it appeared the Crimson King was following the Emperor's Edict. Magnus had recalled the vast majority of his sons to Prospero, supposedly for re-education and to implement the new Edict guidelines that they must follow. Russ' spies reported that the XV was following the Emperor's orders to the letter. So it came as a surprise when an astropathic message from Terra ordered that the Sixth Legion go to Prospero, raze it to the ground, and to leave none alive. For Magnus, a kill-order was authorised, granting the Space Wolves the responsibility to carry out the sanction the Fifteenth Legion, a duty they have performed twice before. Russ accepted this with a heavy heart, knowing that this day would have come eventually, one way or another.
To eliminate a Legion as powerful as the Thousand Sons, Russ recalled the Rout in its entirety to assemble near Prospero. To assist in the planetary assault the Wolf King called upon the Mechanicum and the Silent Sisterhood for assistance. It took time, the warp having become beset with violent storms in recent weeks, but eventually ninety thousand Space Wolves had assembled. Several thousand Sisters of Silence and two Titan Legions had reinforced the VI. Now ready, the Sixth Primarch ordered his fleet into warp, their destination: Prospero.
The Burning of Prospero-
As news of the Warmaster's near-death on Davin spread cross the Imperium alongside rumours of Night Lord atrocities, the Wolves of Fenris arrived to Prospero. Their Legion numbered six times that of the XV, and their void assets were significantly more numerous and more powerful than the scions of the desert world. Although the Wolves held the advantage in numbers and heavy units, Prospero was a homeworld of an Astartes Legion and was protected as such. Extensive orbital defences were bolstered by a sizable fleet and a highly trained Planetary Defence Force.
The VI fleet surged towards near-orbit, strike-teams attacking defence weapon platforms in the attempt of crippling them from the inside, whilst more teams were sent to capital ships. The escort-class warships were destroyed outright and after less than an hour of brutal void warfare the Rout attained position over the city of Tizca. While the rest of Prospero's cities burned in nuclear fire, the Raptora Cult's kine-shields protected the City of Light. A majority of the Thousand Sons and over a million Spireguard garrisoned the city. The Space Wolves first wave landed in Old Tizca and from there the Rout began to advance, killing all in their way in the push towards the city's centre.
Russ fought his way to the pyramid where his brother resided, coordinating the planet-wide defence. The Wolves, supplemented by the Sisters and the Mechanicum, broke through the Prosperine defensive lines, suffering heavy casualties, but after hours of bloody combat, Russ confronted Magnus. On the steps of the great pyramid the Wolf King confronted the Crimson King. The two primarchs fight eclipsed all other engagements on the battlefield. Magnus attempted to use his powerful psyker abilities but they were hardly effective against Russ as several Sisters of Silence fought beside the Wolf King, negating the Cyclops his sorcery, allowing Russ to use his immense strength against the other primarch,
The battle raged between the two for what felt like hours, but in reality lasted only moments, until Russ had lifted his brother above him for all to see and brought Magnus' back upon his knee, breaking it. Before Russ could deliver the killing blow, a Thousand Son officer interjected and distracted the Executioner long enough for his own gene-sire to teleport himself and most of the surviving legionnaires to the remaining warships in orbit, allowing them to escape. Despite the Sixth Legion's fleet best efforts, many evaded the hunter-killer squadrons and fled into the Immaterium. Nearly a third of the Thousand Sons would live to fight another day.
The Wolf King roared in frustration as Magnus used dark sorcery to escape. He killed the Thousand Son officer before him and ordered his Wolves to cleanse the world of all that still lived. It took the remainder of the day, but as the dusk settled over Tizca, the Fifteenth Legion's homeworld was a ruin, its people butchered, its industry and infrastructure destroyed beyond recovery. With Prospero burned to a cinder, the Wolf King ordered his fleet to follow the Crimson King. Prior to departure, Russ sent a powerful astropathic message to Terra. He informed the Emperor and his brothers of the details of Prospero's burning and his subsequent mission to hunt down and finish what he had started. As the last dropships carrying legionnaires boarded Rout warships, Russ and the Vlka Fenryka entered the warp, beginning the Hunt for Magnus.
The Heresy-
As Russ hunted for his wayward brother, reports began to arrive aboard the Hrafnkel. The Dropsite Massacre, Fulgrim becoming War Commander, the Traitor Legions initial offensives and more became known to Russ. This only drove the primarch harder in his search for the Cyclops, as he knew that if Magnus joined the traitors' main fleets then he would become a vital asset to them and therefore incredibly dangerous to the loyalists. Using his Rune Priests and the blood of the Fifteenth Primarch that coated Mjalnar's blade, Russ was able to track Magnus to the Akkad System.
Russ stared at the Photep as his fleet neared the traitors'. Hundreds of Vlka Fenryka ships versus less than forty Fifteenth Legion ships.
"Too few, there are too few," he muttered.
"My king?" queried Gunnar Gunnhilt, Jarl of Onn. What other Legions would have called First Captain stood near the primary view-screen, but turned to look at his father.
"The traitor fleet is far smaller than it should be," Russ explained. "The fleet that escaped the Burning was several times this size. Why would Magnus disperse his sons so?"
"Perhaps he hoped you would follow one of the splinter fleets, or perhaps they go to join the Arch-Traitor's forces."
Russ did not respond. He did not think those likely but held his tongue. He watched as the battle unfolded. Frigates, destroyers, cruisers of all types, battleships, carriers and battle-barges of the Rout broke through the traitors' protective screen. The Photep lay in anchor over Akkad in spacedock, repair teams rapidly withdrawing as the ship readied for combat. Flights of interceptors and fighter-bombers from both sides redlined their engines to unleash their deadly payloads.
The VI punched through the red and gold warships with a hunter's grace, leaving a trail of broken ships venting air and corpses. The Hrafnkel led the fleet like an alpha would a pack, its weapons breaking void shields and rupturing hulls. Russ watched until they were within weapon's range.
The teeth of the flagship were bared and they began to bite. Torpedo, lance, plasma, macrocannon and more were fired. The shields of the Photep flickered. The primarch departed the bridge, heading to the nearest Caestus Assault Ram, Wolf Guard in tow. To negate the sorcerers and their witchcraft a dozen Sisters and half as many Rune Priests accompanied them.
The assault ram was forcefully ejected and soared through the chaotic void, dozens of others in its wake. It weathered through the fierce anti-ship laser clusters and impacted the rebel flagship's scarred hull. Shredding through adamantium and plasteel plates, it halted, allowing its passengers to disembark. Russ brought Mjalnar before him, readying the blade's spirit for the killing to come.
The Wolf King prowled through the ship, slaughtering crew and the few legionnaires that he came across. But there were not enough. A third of the XV escaped Prospero, and there couldn't be more than a few hundred at most in the fleet from the reports that were filtering to his vox-bead.
Was he wrong? Did his warp-scryers and Rune Priests falsely predict here his brother would be? Nonetheless, he continued with the murder-make.
Half an hour passed until they reached the chamber where Magnus' psychic mark could be detected. Opening the doors, Russ leaped in expecting to end what had begun months ago. But instead of his brother sitting on the room's single throne, it was instead a heavily muscled creature with azure coloured wings and a beak akin to a bird, taller than Russ and bearing four elongated horns rising from its skull. From its razor sharp teeth maw came a voice.
"Welcome, brother, to your death."
Russ and his strike-team reached Magnus' personal chamber but instead of finding the Traitor Primarch, they found a Greater Daemon of Hel. A majority of Magnus' conscience had been attached to the daemon, fooling Russ' Rune Priests into thinking the creature was the Cyclops. As the Traitor Primarch finished speaking, his soul returned to its body elsewhere, far from Akkad, and the Greater Daemon awoke from its slumber and the slaughter began.
The daemon focused first on the Sisters, killing all that had accompanied the primarch. The Sisters mere presence weakened the beast and with every Sister killed, the daemon became stronger. The Wolf Guard and the Rune Priests fought with their strengths against the Helspawn, but it did little against such an unnatural being. Russ and the daemon fought to a standstill, the daemon taunting the primarch for the battle's duration. Russ eventually gained the upper hand and banished it back to the warp, nearly dying in the process. The surviving Wolf Guard led by Bjorn carried a near-dead demigod back to the assault ram which subsequently returned to the Sixth Legion flagship. Russ would be in the Apothecarion for weeks as his body healed itself.
During recovery, Russ reflected on his brashness in following the obvious target. He concluded that after the Burning, Magnus joined Fulgrim's 28th Expedition Fleet, bolstering its already formidable ensemble of strength. The trap that he had walked into had been orchestrated by both Magnus and First Captain Ahzek Ahriman. By the time Russ fully recovered, the Sixth Legion had ravaged Akkad, destroying its vast libraries and centres of knowledge, and stripping bare the orbital docks to resupply and repair their own ships.
Unable to directly attack Fulgrim, as warp storms and overwhelming numbers prevented it, the Wolf King was forced to be content with assaulting the flank and forcing the Arch-Traitor to divert crucial resources to stop him. This marked the beginning of the Howling, the four and a half years in which the Space Wolves assailed the traitors' flanks in a manner similar to what the Iron Warriors, Raven Guard, Blood Angels and Sons of Horus were doing, but unable to link up with any significant numbers of these fellow loyalists, cut off from support.
The next several years would see the Space Wolves bleed the Traitor Legions, perhaps more so than any other. While the other Loyalist Legions fought to slow down the traitors to allow Terra time to prepare, the Sixth Legion was ever on the offensive, never on the defensive. Garrison worlds, supply caches, fuel depots, shipyards, and more were attacked by the sons of Russ. Every Traitor Legion felt the sharp fangs of the VI gnawing at their heels.
In the fourth year of the Heresy, Fulgrim ordered Angron to eliminate Russ. The Red Angel gathered much of his World Eaters and assumed overall command of the campaign against the Space Wolves. For a year the Wolves of Fenris fought bravely against Angron, but the Unbroken Gladiator was a shrewd strategist, outmatched by only a handful of his brothers and constricted the loyalists' territory. After a year of such tactics, the Sixth Legion found themselves pushed into the far reaches of the Ultima Segmentum, surrounded by overwhelming force from elements of several Traitor Legions. To make matters worse, the VI was trapped against the storm wall of the Ruinstorm that cut off Ultramar from the rest of the Imperium.
Angron gathered his Legion and allies, venturing forth to destroy the Emperor's Executioner and his Legion. The Battle of the Stormwall, as it would be called, was horrendous for both sides. The Space Wolves had long been considered the best close quarter fighters in the Legiones Astartes, but were simply outnumbered by their traitorous cousins. The VI's fleet was in severe need for mass repair, the Wolves having cannibalised their fleet for years, allowing it to remain in fighting condition albeit barely. The traitors on the other hand were relatively well-rested, much better supplied and their ships were in far superior condition.
Russ, knowing his back was against the wall, decided that his sons would die with honour and the blood of their enemies on their fists. Russ hoped to cripple the forces arrayed against him, allowing the chances of the Arch-Traitor's successful assault on Terra to dwindle significantly. Forty thousand Wolves fought nearly a hundred thousand traitors from various Legions. The World Eaters, Sons of Fulgrim, Word Bearers, and elements of the Iron Hands plus other Space Marine support fought the Wolf King's cornered fleet.
For hours both sides thrashed the other. Despite the Wolves skill and combat prowess, they were being defeated. But just as all hope seemed to be lost, a break in the Ruinstorm appeared. Russ saw this as aid from the Allfather and took advantage of the opportunity. He ordered all of his legionnaires that could break off to withdrawal through the cleared space and enter Ultramar's relative safety. To allow more of his sons a chance to survive, Russ launched a strike against the Abyss-class Word Bearer ship the Blessed Lady. His flagship was destroyed as it neared the traitor ship, but it brought over a thousand Wolves in range to attack via boarding torpedo and assault ram. As the Lord of Winter and War scoured through the immense battleship, Angron rushed to reinforce the beleaguered XVII legionnaires. On the bridge of the Blessed Lady, Wolf King fought Red Angel, each wounding the other.
The duel swung from one's favour to the next, until Angron gained the upper hand and nearly killed Russ, but the Emperor's Enforcer was saved by Rune Priest Othere Wyrdmake, who sacrificed himself to transport his primarch back to the last fleeing ship, the Ragnarok. The traitors won the battle, but were unable to eliminate the Sixth Legion in full.
After the Ragnarok exited the warp in Guilliman's sub-empire, the Ruinstorm closed once again and the traitors did not follow. Russ wanted to ascertain the situation in Ultramar as information from it had been scattered and incoherent at best. The Wolf King and the twenty thousand Space Wolf survivors made way to Macragge.
The Crown Mountains' crisp winter air reminded Russ somewhat of Fenris, albeit if it was a light summer's breeze. Compared to the harsh winters of home, it was. Banners of various Ultramarine Chapters and companies adorned the long pristine corridors. Guilliman's legionnaires stood sentry throughout, their attention sharp even here. Russ looked out across Magna Macragge Civitas, amused at the marble, stone, metal and glass that made up the city. It was something that, outside of the Aett, would never appear on his homeworld.
Booted footfalls came from behind, and he turned to greet the walker. Roboute Guilliman, the Thirteenth Primarch, Lord of Ultramar, the Last Battle-King and Avenging Son plus countless more titles stood there, noble looking. His brother wore a robe in the cobalt blue and gold of his Legion, a white cloak edged in gold with a similarly coloured Ultima upon its centre fell from his shoulders. Russ wore his war-plate; rarely removing it except when repairs were needed or for the rare times he truly slept.
Guilliman looked at the armour and back to his brother's face. "You do not have to wear it here, Leman. You can rest."
"Rest." He tested the word, a foreign concept for years "It has become alien to me, Roboute. Since I fell upon Prospero, I have not truly rested and nor will I. The time for rest can wait for when the war is over."
"You are safe here, brother."
Russ' gaze sharpened on the other primarch. "Safe? Aye, it is safe here. You hide on your capital world while the galaxy burns, securing your own little empire while our father's falls apart. We have to defeat Fulgrim and Magnus and the others, not wait about here. We have a duty, a responsibility to Mankind to do so! You should have braved the Ruinstorm, attempted to re-join the Imperium. If you had been beside me we could have cut the traitors' advance in two! Yet you speak of being safe." The last words were snarled.
Guilliman's face had become hard as stone and eyes cold as ice during the tirade. Russ saw this, and inwardly cursed his behaviour. Raising his hands, he spoke softly.
"Peace, brother, peace. Forgive my words. I know you have done much here and preserving Ultramar as you have since the Shadow Crusade is admirable. If it were not for the Ruinstorm, you would have doubtlessly reinforced Terra."
Guilliman's nod was curt but his demeanour began to loosen. The Ultramarine Primarch moved to stand beside the Wolf King and both looked out over the majesty that was Macragge. They stood there for a moment, allowing an illusion of serenity to come over them.
A flight of Lightning fighters flew overhead; their engine sounds having disrupted the illusion. Reality returned and with it grim facts. Russ looked at his brother.
"What is Ultramar's current situation?" he asked.
"Largely stable," Guilliman said. "The worlds closest to Macragge are entirely cleansed of traitor presence, but the outlying star systems have proven troublesome to secure. Two score worlds remain under occupation by Word Bearer and Iron Hand remnants, leftovers from the Shadow Crusade, with raider squadrons ever on the move. Lorgar and Ferrus may have left my realm three years ago, but tens of thousands of their sons remain causing chaos and bloodshed across the Five Hundred Worlds. Even more disturbing are confirmed reports of Alpha Legion Space Marines and assets being spotted throughout Ultramar. I am not sure exactly how they were able to get past the Ruinstorm, but our brothers were able to leave after their rampage concluded with little difficulty so it seemed. They have denizens of the warp on their side." Daemons, thought Russ, they are daemons. "Already rebellion has sprouted like weeds on fourteen worlds with more undoubtedly being orchestrated even now.
"My border fleets continuously patrol the outer edge of the Ruinstorm, looking for breaks in the storm. Some have been reported, but they are incredibly rare and do not last long. The chances that a break would come about during the Battle of the Stormwall are truly astronomical."
"The Allfather did it," he said matter-of-factly. Guilliman looked at his brother, doubt on his features. "Our father made the opening. I do not know how, nor care to find out. His doing saved my sons and I." The Thirteenth nodded at this but Russ could tell Guilliman did not share his belief on the matter. Shrugging, he folded his arms in thought.
Silence reigned for a brief time. "I have the estimations on the fleet repairs."
Russ turned quickly to Guilliman. "And?"
The Lord of Ultramar frowned. "Worse than we first thought. Most of your ships require extensive maintenance. A majority can be made ready in a year, but many require upwards to three. Some can be fielded again in four months' time though."
Russ scowled at this. Five years without a proper refit and forced cannibalisation had taken its toll. Cut off from the Imperium, and unable to fight the enemies within his brother's realm irked him. A thought occurred.
"You plan to eliminate the remaining traitor threats here in Ultramar, correct?"
"Yes, of course. We have been doing so for three years. They have become quite adept at avoiding decisive conflict and their endless raids wound us."
"Good. You can include the Wolves of Fenris in your battle order. Our ships may need to remain behind to be repaired, but we only need another battlefield to prowl upon." Russ showed his long canine teeth in a savage smile. He held out his hand. "Let us cleanse your worlds together." Guilliman's hand grabbed it firmly in agreement.
In the final two years of the Fulgrimian Heresy, the Space Wolves and the Ultramarines fought in unison against the traitors in Ultramar. Alpha Legion, Iron Hand, Word Bearer and others fell to the power swords of the XIII and the frostblades of the VI. From the Ocean World of Maldea to Saramanth the two Loyal Legions fought and bled together.
As the years trudged onwards the Ruinstorm began to steadily weaken, allowing easier and safer travels within the enclosed realm. Some information seeped in from the wider galaxy during this time. Due to this, Russ and Guilliman learned the War Commander was on Terra's doorstep, having taken Cthonia and laid siege to Proxima Centauri. The two primarchs knew the natural degradation of the Ruinstorm would take several more years until fully broken down, but they needed to depart immediately if they were to have a chance at reinforcing the Throneworld.
It was Guilliman's idea to use the ancient xenos device known as the Pharos to punch a hole through the Ruinstorm. Using the device in this way caused the machine to fail, never to recover, but not before it carved a narrow but stable pathway out of the Five Hundred Worlds. The VI and the XIII quickly departed to reinforce Terra, but arrived too late.
The two Loyal Legions arrived to a devastated Sol System, the Traitor Legions having retreated only days before. Guilliman and Russ were greeted by Warmaster Horus who told them of the tragedy that had befallen Mankind. Dorn dead by Fulgrim's blade, the War Commander killed by the Emperor, and worst of all He was entombed on the Golden Throne. Large portions of Terra and Mars were ravaged by war, so too were the Solar Colonies in the Outer System. The Fulgrimian Heresy was over, but at immense cost.
In the year that followed, the Year of Intermission, the loyalist fleets and armies readied for the galactic-wide counter-attack. Horus led the Senatorum Imperialis and several of his brother primarchs held positions within the new government. Perturabo became the second Emperor's Praetorian, Vulkan the Regent of Mars, Sanguinius the Imperial Prince, Lion El'Jonson the Lord Protector, and Guilliman the Lord Warden. It was to these demigods and the hundreds of other mortal Senators that worked beside them to ready the Imperium for the new age it found itself in. The duty of Russ in the new Imperium was the same he had held before: the Emperor's Enforcer and Executioner.
As the Great Scouring began, the Space Wolves set about purging the Imperium of any possible Fifteenth Legion taint. The legionnaires of Fenris travelled the length and breadth of the galaxy, destroying the worlds that made up the Prosperine Hegemony. Countless treasure troves of ancient tomes and half-forgotten knowledge were burned, the information contained inside them deemed too dangerous to endure. Once the Hegemony was eradicated, Russ rendezvoused with Imperial forces and assisted in the wars against the Syndicate Chaotica and other Chaos forces. The victories won by the Sixth Legion during the Scouring entered the sagas of the Rout for all time; banners marking these victories still hang in honour in the Fang's Great Hall.
Post-Heresy-
After the fires of the Scouring cooled the Imperial Reformation began. By order of the High Lords of Terra, in the Emperor's Name, the Imperial Army was permanently divided into the Navy and Guard, the Iron Cages approved for construction, and above all the dismantling of the Legions. Hundreds of reforms were passed, but it was the Codex Astartes that affected primarchs and Space Marines the most. Penned by Guilliman, with significant contributions from several other primarchs, the Codex saw to the elimination of the Legiones Astartes as an organisation, replacing it with the Adeptus Astartes. No longer would Legions numbering tens of thousands to a quarter of million exist; rather the five thousand-strong Chapters would be the new formation for the Emperor's Angels of Death.
Out of all the primarchs, Russ protested this decree most fiercely. He was aghast at the reform, stating it deviated from the Emperor's vision. Though some of his brothers shared this view with him they decided to follow it as they saw the logic in doing so. Russ continued to ignore the order to accept the decree for several months until Horus and Guilliman warned that to defy the order any longer would be construed as treason. Russ knew that a second civil war would have dire consequences for the Allfather's Realm and accepted the High Lords ruling. The Space Wolves, so heavy were their casualties during the Heresy, that they could only field a single Successor Chapter during the Second Founding: the Wolf Brothers.
The Wolf King continued to protect the Imperium for several centuries. The Ja'Hedahm Purge, the Ferso Rebellion, the Battle of Aginthon VII, and more are noted victories of the Vlka Fenryka over the various and xenos and traitors. The Wolf King fought energetically, passionately, yet as the centuries continued he began to grow restless and bitter. Failing to be by the Emperor's side when He needed him most ate away at Russ' spirit. After years of dissatisfaction, the primarch announced at the annual Great Feast that he would depart towards the Eye of Terror. Some claim the Wolf King left to track down Magnus for eternity, some say he left for the Eye to kill traitors until none remained, while other claim he went searching for the fabled Tree of Life to bring the Emperor back from His deathly state. It may never be known as to why Russ left, but on the four hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the Emperor's Ascension to the Golden Throne, the Lord of Winter and War left Fenris with the Thirteenth Great Company and never returned.
Bjorn the Fell-Handed is the second most famous Space Wolf, lagging behind only his king. Bjorn began the war as part of Tra Company but after distinguishing himself during the Burning, he was selected by Russ to become part of his Wolf Guard. This gave Bjorn great honour and was humbled by his primarch's decision.
Bjorn gained the moniker of 'Fell-Handed' during the Battle of Akkad. Bjorn led a strike-team to the bridge, securing it after a fierce skirmish with several Thousand Sons and their serfs. He was made aware of the trap his father had walked into by call of reinforcement by the Wolf Guard attending the primarch. Being the closest legionnaires, Bjorn and his pack rushed to the Crimson King's chambers. Discarded before Bjorn were the entirety of Russ' strike team, the Wolves and Sisters killed by brute strength and dark sorcery. As the Greater Daemon and primarch were locked in stalemate, Bjorn rushed towards the daemon, his pack with him. The Helspawn, using maleficarum, killed all but Bjorn, his arm having been infected with warp-taint, causing immense pain. This distraction proved fruitful as it gave Russ the opening he needed to kill the daemon, nearly ending his life in the process. Before the Wolf King fell into unconsciousness from his extensive wounds, he was beside Bjorn who lay in agony on the deck. Russ raised Mjalnar and cut off the tainted arm of Bjorn, thus saving his son. Russ then fell into a coma.
When the primarch awoke, he promoted Bjorn to Thenn of his Wolf Guard. During the following years of the Howling, Bjorn fought beside or represented his primarch on dozens of battlefields. The Fell-Handed did the same in the Cleansing of Ultramar, the Scouring and the centuries that followed.
Centuries after the Heresy, Russ announced he would leave for the Eye of Terror. Bjorn expected to go with him, as were the rest of the Guard and the entire Thirteenth Company, but it was not to be so. Bjorn would remain behind to guide and lead the Wolves, much to the Fell-Handed's despair and chagrin. When Russ left, Bjorn became the first Great Wolf and led the Chapter for over five hundred years until he was mortally wounded during a suppression of rebellion. Unable to be healed by the Wolf Priests, Bjorn was emplaced within a Dreadnought chassis. Every century a great feast is held and Bjorn awoken from stasis-slumber to tell the stories of old in conjunction with skjalds, telling his brothers of their history and primarch. On occasion, either for matters of great import or for when Fenris is under attack, the Wolves awaken the Eldest for advice and leadership. Each and every time the Revered One has helped the Vlka Fenryka secure victory. After the matter is over or the battle concluded, Bjorn is returned to stasis-sleep to await the next time he is needed. It is agreed by the Imperium at large that Bjorn is the longest serving Astartes in Imperial history and the only confirmed living loyalist Space Marine from the time of the Emperor. This has made the Fell-Handed a saint in the eyes of the Imperial masses, much to his chagrin for such things.
Some in the Imperium speculate that the Sixth Primarch is dead, but the Space Wolves themselves do not believe this. They remember their father's finals words, that when the Imperium needed him most he would be there for the final battle, for the Wolftime. The entire Rout present swore an oath to their departing father that they would never stop fighting, that they would preserve the Imperium until he returned.
Since that time the Space Wolves have stayed true to their oath, never tiring in their pursuit of duty and ever watchful for the Archenemy, ever willing to confront the pawns of darkness in the name of Russ and the Allfather. With the 41st Millennium coming to a close and the Eleventh Vengeance Crusade soon to begin in a galaxy rife with war the Space Wolves and their handful of Successors believe that the time of their primarch's return is imminent and ready themselves for the Wolftime.
Organisation-
Since the early years of the Great Crusade the Space Wolves were made up of thirteen Great Companies, each led by a Jarl. Varying in size and specialty the Great Companies of Russ were known throughout the Imperium as fearsome fighters. After the Codex was accepted, the Vlka Fenryka still continued to use thirteen companies, in sharp contrast to the ten dictated by the Codex. The modern day Space Wolves only field twelve Great Companies, for the Thirteenth joined their primarch on his endeavour into the Eye of Terror and were never replaced nor considered lost. To the Wolves, their brethren are on a mission and will await their return patiently. Every year at Feast, the tables are set and a tankard of mjod is set aside for their brothers and father. Though none have ever returned, their hope is unshakeable and after every Feast, the Wolves mutter warmly to each other that perhaps next year they will come.
The Chapter is led by the Great Wolf, lord and master of the Space Wolves until the Wolf King returns. The current Chapter Master is Ragnar Blackmane, Logan Grimnar's chosen successor, selected by the Great Wolf as he lay dying amidst a hundred enemies. The legend of the Black Wolf is well known across much of the Imperium. He had been an Astartes for less than a century, though the exact date is unclear as the Space Wolves have not divulged that information. He bypassed the rank of Grey Hunter altogether and became part of Wolf Lord Berek Thunderfist's Wolf Guard. When Berek perished in battle, the young Space Marine succeeded him, becoming the youngest Wolf Lord in Chapter history. Since that time, the young Wolf has shown his aggression, battle prowess, diplomatic skill and military acumen. To complement his impressive combat record, he served several years in the Wolfblade whilst a Blood Claw. This has secured Ragnar strong support from Navigator House Belisarius, the only House that supplies Navigators to the Space Wolves due to ancient treaties signed by Leman Russ and the House Celestarch.
The events that led to Ragnar's ascension to Chapter command began with a Chaos plot to destroy Fenris via a warp storm. The then Wolf Lord Ragnar Blackmane and Great Wolf Logan Grimnar discovered the insidious scheme and disrupted the traitor ritual taking place on one of Fenris' sister planets: Midgardia. The battle was fierce and the day was won, but at heavy cost.
The new Chapter Master quickly cemented his position by the victory and cleansing of Midgardia of daemonic taint. Later, he won a majority of the votes during the Great Annulus, securing his lordship over the Chapter. Yet not all was well, for many Wolf Lords felt that they, not a young pup, should be the Great Wolf. Not only was there dissension from within, but also outside interference. The Holy Inquisition, long suspicious of the Space Wolves for their defiance of Imperial authority and refusal to abide by the orders and wishes of the High Lords. The situation between the Chapter and the Inquisition has only worsened since the First War of Armageddon and the ensuing Months of Shame half a millennium ago.
Weathering through doubts and insults, Ragnar was able to cleanse the Fenris System of Inquisition spies without killing or maiming any of them. This comforted several of his detractors, thus gaining him allies, and establishing the foundation for a potentially long and glorious reign.
It had been a peaceful day, until they arrived. The first warning was the warp-scryers falling to their knees, screaming about primal fury rapidly approaching from the Immaterium. The Prognosticars felt it too, and warned their superiors immediately. The various squadrons in orbit coalesced into a task-force, led by Grand Master Vorth Mordrak. An encoded astropathic message was sent to the Supreme Grand Master, whom attended a closed session of the High Lords along many of the Inquisitions leading agents, but it would take many hours for him to be here, even with the fastest ship. The worst was assumed, that daemonic forces were coming to attack Titan.
He, Justicar Alaric of the Grey Knights, rushed towards his station, ordering his battle-brothers to their positions. He interjected a nearby security satellite into his helm's visual feed to witness the arrival. From the warp came nineteen ships. The first was recognised as the Allfather's Honour, flagship of the Space Wolves. The next was Stormrider, flagship of the Storm Krakens. The third was Silverfang, flagship of the Wolf Brothers. Each following ship was either the flagship or a battle-barge of a Space Wolf Successor. They were just outside the range for weapons' fire. Not daemons, but certainly not friendlies.
As a justicar, he could hear Central Control send a vox message to the Allfather's Honour. "Space Wolves, why have you come here?" asked Grand Master Talus.
The answer followed with no hesitation. "We bring you your spies. Allow us to deposit them via dropship, or we will eject them into space. Then you will have to try and debrief corpses."
Talus was silent for but a moment. "Agreed, here are your landing coordinates."
The link was terminated. It took almost a half hour but the Space Wolves had sent a Stormbird to the surface of Titan. Alaric, his men, and the three hundred brothers that had been at the Grey Knights Fortress-Monastery assembled in formation on a surface landing pad.
The Stormbird lowered, landing gear extended. Once it touched the metal of the pad, a ramp lowered, yet the engines remained at full power. They do not trust us, he thought, unsurprised.
The first figure down the ramp was an Astartes of medium build, bedecked in advanced power armour. It was covered in runes, wolf fetishes and rimmed with fur around neck and shoulders. Eighteen followed him. Alaric observed the arrivals, their varying armour schemes different in colour or manner but all originating from the same source. A representative from every Successor Chapter, led by lord of the parent Chapter, stood facing the Grand Master Talus. Grand Master Mordrak remained in orbit in case of treachery. Grey Knights versus Space Wolves, no others were to interfere.
A lord of Wolves, his face covered by his helm, as were they all, looked around, almost disdainfully. Shaking his head minutely, he beckoned into the interior of the dropship. Nearly forty men and women were ushered out by two Space Wolves in Terminator Armour. They wore skinsuits and void-helms, and chains.
Talus glanced at them, then back to the Wolf.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"No more spies, Grey Knight. Your masters thought they could arrive on our homeworld and not be detected. The Inquisition consistently shows itself to be foolish and wasteful in this regard. The Wolf motioned for the mortals to trudge towards the Grey Knights, who stood impassive.
"You are him, aren't you?"
The Wolf looked at the Grand Master, and Alaric would have reckoned that underneath the blue-grey ceramite, plasteel and adamantium, there was a wolfish grin.
"Aye, I am Ragnar Blackmane, Great Wolf of the Wolves of Fenris."
Talus raised his fist in salute. "Greetings, Chapter Master." There was respect there in that tone. The Wolves loyalty to the Emperor could never be denied, and their feud with the Inquisition had stretched into times unremembered. The Inquisition, specifically the Ordo Malleus may detest the Wolves, but the Grey Knights had respect for them. Lucky for both sides then, that no Inquisitor of appropriate rank was available, for if the Inquisitor ordered the Grey Knights to arrest or attack the other Astartes they would comply without question. It was their duty.
But no blows were exchanged, just prisoners and words. Alaric watched the Wolves and their brother Chapter representatives board the dropship. Their display of unity would dismay the High Lords and the Inquisition's upper hierarchy, but no complaints or note of this event would ever be written, as if it had never occurred. In the unseen conflict between the Emperor's Inquisition and His Wolves, there were no official battlegrounds or rules, but this was a legionnaire victory without question.
The Great Wolf and the Grand Master exchanged pleasantries for a moment. The Chapter Master made his way back to the ship to join his allies, but he turned around when he was halfway up the boarding ramp and spoke through his external speakers at max volume.
"Knights of Titan, know this! Do not let over five hundred years of relative peace fall into ruin. Do not interfere with our affairs and we will not with yours. But if the Inquisition attempts to, as they undoubtedly will, then we, the sons of Russ, will return and voice our displeasure more severely." Ragnar turned and walked into the hold as the ramp clanged shut. Alaric knew that the if they returned again to voice displeasure, it would be far more violent and regretful for both sides.
The Stormbird kicked up dust as it rose from the platform and roared into the skies towards the awaiting fleet.
The Chapter has a unique structure in comparison to Codex-compliant Chapters. Instead of a traditional Neophyte, then Tactical Marine and so forth, the Space Wolves instead have the Blood Claws, Wolf Scouts, the Grey Hunters, Long Fangs and Lone Wolves. The Blood Claws are the Chapters Neophytes, armed with little more than a chainsword and bolt pistol, they are encouraged to charge straight at the enemy to prove themselves and to vent their impulsive energy of youth. Those that survive are then selected by a Great Company and ascend to the rank of Grey Hunter, replacing archaic chainsword for frostblade. After centuries of service, when the Wolf in question has become wise and mindful, he is promoted to Long Fang. These heavy weapon specialists bring the fury of their primarch from afar. Those that become Wolf Scouts are typically those that cannot integrate into a pack, and are more comfortable alone. These Astartes are few and far between, but enough of them occur to give the Wolves a powerful and experienced Scout corps.
A Lone Wolf is a unique and tragic rank within the Chapter. Veterans of countless campaigns, the Space Marines that become Lone Wolves are the only living member of their pack and feel the despair at losing all their pack-brothers. Integration with other packs usually fails, and rather than force the warrior in question to fall into place, a Wolf Lord will give the Space Marine leave to wander the galaxy, fighting in the Allfather's name until death takes him. It is not uncommon for a single Space Marine bearing the colours and markings of the Space Wolves to arrive on distant battlefields throughout the Imperium and fight without concern for his own well-being. These warriors typically secure victory for Imperial forces, their mere presence bolstering morale. If the Lone Wolf does not die during the battle, he gathers his equipment and sets off to the next warzone, awaiting his death, eagerly wishing to rejoin his deceased pack-brothers in spirit.
The ranks of officers are also wildly different. The first command rank is that of pack master, who commands a squad, known as a pack in the Chapter's terminology. Blood Claws do not have pack masters in the same manner of Grey Hunter. The brazen young Neophytes tend to have an experienced Space Marine, usually a member of the Wolf Guard or veteran Grey Hunter, guide the Blood Claws into battle. The next rank is Wolf Lord, also called Jarl, equivalent to captain. The protector and enforcers of the Wolf Lord are his Wolf Guard; the commanders of the Guard are called Thenn. Though they usually stay beside their lord in full strength, they are oft given command of Blood Claws or Grey Hunters in battle, to better represent their lord in battle. The last rank is that of Great Wolf. Chosen by vote between the Wolf Lords of the Twelve Great Companies in the Fang's Great Annulus, the winner of the vote then becomes the next official Great Wolf and entered into the sagas as thus. When a Great Wolf dies, he tends to either have a known successor or chooses one at his death, to lead the Chapter until the other eleven Wolf Lords can meet and decides on who the next Great Wolf will be. This is how Ragnar Blackmane became interim Chapter Master until the Annulus in which he barely won, but has since proven himself to be a Great Wolf of Grimnar's calibre.
The specialist formations within the Chapter are the Wolf Priests, Iron Priests and Rune Priests. A Wolf Priest is a combination of Apothecary and Chaplain and such they are responsible for not only the preservation of Russ' genetic code but also the preservation of the spirit in the Chapter's warriors. Iron Priests are the Techmarines of the Chapter, and are responsible for maintenance and oversee production of the Chapter's warships and vehicles. They also regularly upgrade and enhance the defences of the Fang. The Rune Priests are the wielders of Mother Fenris' power. Similar to Librarians in other Chapters, the Rune Priests use their magicks in war and study it to better harness and control it. Unlike other Chapters beside their own Successors, the Rune Priests do not believe their power is derived from the warp, which they view as tainted, but rather it comes from their homeworld itself. This has led to thousands of years of arguments and debate dating back to before the Edict of Nikaea between the Space Wolves and their detractors. Nonetheless, the Wolves believe their power to be gifted to them by Fenris and not taken from the Chaos-infested warp.
Recruitment-
Since the discovery of Leman Russ, the Space Wolves only recruit from Fenris. Not even from the sisters-planets of Midgardia and Frostheim, both Death Worlds, are Aspirants recruited from. Instead these two planets and their populations provide hardened PDF regiments for system defence, which have proven their worth during the several invasions of the Fenris System.
On the primarch's homeworld, only the strongest are chosen to join the ranks of the Sky Warriors. War-hardened young males are chosen by Wolf Priests, these Aspirants would face many trials ahead of them. Their final and greatest challenge was to drink from the Cup of Wulfen, and then undergo the Test of Morkai: stranded far from the Fang and told to make their way back with little to no clothing, food or weapons. They must survive and arrive back to the Fang where a warm hearth awaits them. Those that returned are welcomed as brothers and join the Blood Claws' ranks, now a full member of the Space Wolves.
Homeworld-
The homeworld of the Space Wolves has been Fenris for over ten thousand years. Being one of the first primarchs discovered, countless generations of Fenrisian sons have been recruited by the Wolves and fought against the enemies of the Allfather across the Sea of Stars. Fenris is one of the most inhospitable worlds under the dominion of the Imperium of Man, yet despite this the world's population thrives and is acknowledged as one of the hardiest in the galaxy.
Beliefs-
The Space Wolves have always been a spiritual brotherhood. The culture and mythology of their homeworld has great impact on the Rout's Space Marines. There are many beliefs held by the Chapter, but the most significant is that Leman Russ is not dead and will one day return with the Thirteenth Great Company to fight in the Last Battle against the enemies of darkness. The Emperor is not seen as a god by the Vlka Fenryka, though their respect and admiration for Him is equal to that of their primogenitor. Though their loyalty to the Emperor is unshakeable, their loyalty to His empire has been called into question, causing difficulties with the High Lords and other Imperial organisations, especially the Inquisition. This friction had led to conflict on several occasions but has always been prevented from escalating too far.
Gene-seed-
An unknown problem outside of the Chapter is the instability of Russ' gene-seed. Before the discovery of the primarch, the Sixth Legion nearly died out as most Aspirants died upon receiving the gene-seed, with the gene-seed itself mutated to the point of uselessness. For the few whose bodies accepted the implantation, problems arose later for many. Their genetic code began to break down, and they soon lost themselves to their own mind, forcing them to be executed by their own brothers. The legionnaires of the VI kept this a secret from the wider Imperium, fearing what might happen to them if it were to known that they were genetically unstable.
Finding the Wolf King only a few decades into the Great Crusade alleviated many fears within the VI, their hope having manifested in their father. Russ worked tirelessly in those early years, his sons numbering hardly more than a few thousand. After years of study, he came up with a solution: the Canis Helix. This modification to his genetic tissue stabilised the gene-seed, bringing with it senses superior to those of other Legions, though it did not lack problems of its own. After implementation, the Aspirants underwent a tortuous physical transformation. Their bones split and buckled, their body fighting between wolf and man, known as the Curse of the Wulfen. It was in this state where they were deposited in Asaheim's wilderness. The physical and mental stress of surviving and attempting to return to the Fang saw many lose their inner battle against the wolf, losing their humanity all together. Those that survived and returned did not mean their internal struggle was over. For the rest of their lives, they would deal with the Curse. It is thanks only to the fortitude of the Rout's Space Marines and the vigilance of the Wolf Priests that many do not succumb to their primal instincts.
Despite the Canis Helix, Russ' gene-seed has remained problematically unstable when compared to the other Loyal Legions. This has led to slow replacement of losses, and after the Second Founding the difficult creation of Successor Chapters. During the Second Founding the Wolves founded their first Successor, the Wolf Brothers, the fewest of all the other Legions save the Death Guard who were so diminished as to be unable to produce any Successor in the immediate aftermath of the Scouring.
In the 41st Millennium, the Space Wolves and their brothers in other Chapters field the fewest Space Marines in the entire Adeptus Astartes, easily outnumbered by all others. Yet, this minority has developed close bonds with one another. The exchange of Astartes to different Sixth Legion-descended Chapters has allowed the culture of Fenris to endure in some form in their Successors. It is not by chance those all of the worlds chosen by the Wolves' Successors are Death Worlds, most strikingly similar to Fenris. This has allowed the sons of Russ, numbering just under a hundred thousand Astartes, to be among the most fierce and deadliest of the Emperor's Angels of Death.
Eirik struggled through the cold, his enlarged legs moving through snow. Blood came off from every step, his body's Larraman cells attempting to counter the harsh climate. Night was falling, and with it, temperature. What was now painfully cold would be freezing death soon. But he was an Aspirant to the Space Wolves, and he would not fail. Groin covered by loincloth was all the clothing he wore.
The beast within yearned to break free, but following the teachings of the Wolf Priests he suppressed it, man over wolf. Based off his travel time in Thunderhawk, he estimated he was another two hundred kilometres away from the Aett. Within minutes of being dropped in the icy wasteland, he had found stone and sharpened it to make a primitive knife. It was a far cry from the weapons he had been training with, but better than nothing.
He kept moving, searching for a cave to rest in for the night. After another hour, and the night's temperature plummeting by the minute, he found one. He had to climb up dagger-sharp rocks to reach it, his hands bleeding and scarring as he hauled himself up. Limping towards the cave, he noted movement. Bringing the stone knife before him, he bared his fangs. The movement revealed itself to be a wolf. Eirik readied himself to fight, but noticed something about the wolf. Covering its backside was a rough, strong material that provided little real warmth. Glancing down at his loincloth he noted the similarity in colour and size.
The wolf noticed too, but it would not give up its territory. Eirik wouldn't have either if the roles were reversed. Backing out slowly, avoiding any sudden movements. He climbed down the rocks and made his way further into the wasteland, seeing rocks and some trees some four kilometres away. He stayed on alert, awaiting the subtle depression of snow beneath paw signalling the wolf hunted him, but he heard nothing.
As he neared sanctuary, he muttered the Wolf Priests' teachings. The last one to come was a warning, yet a statement too.
"There are no wolves on Fenris."
Battlecry-
While "For Russ and the Allfather," is the most common battlecry, it far from the only one, with feral howls being a favourite of many, especially the younger Astartes of the Chapter.